


Seraphim Libertine: Cadence

by Mikleohno



Series: Promiskleo!AU [5]
Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Character Death, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Major Character Injury, Masturbation, Past Relationship(s), Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, That one big Tales of Berseria spoiler
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-02-05 21:25:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 83,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12802692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikleohno/pseuds/Mikleohno
Summary: After a long seven hundred and forty two years, Sorey has finally awoken. The world has long since changed due to his great sacrifice, and Mikleo is no exception.





	1. Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone who has given their support, it truly means a lot. I will attempt to make this part stand-alone despite references to past events and characters. Thank you for your patience and kindness.

“Come on, Sorey, it’s time to wake up.”

For a moment, Maotelus wondered if he had lied to Mikleo in telling him that Sorey was alright. He had been trying to wake his vessel for nearly two days without success.

Mikleo had been by a few days ago, continuing his lifelong tradition of visiting the Camlann crater as often as was reasonable. Since Mikleo had returned from his expeditions at sea he had come by every week like clockwork, spending hours by Sorey’s light. Some weeks he spared the time to visit twice. Mikleo would share his experiences and feelings with Sorey, despite now knowing that it had always fallen on deaf ears. For a few centuries after Maotelus first reawoke he could sparsely communicate some of these thoughts between the men, but often would allow Mikleo time to speak freely to Sorey’s unhearing ears. Now that Maotelus had withdrawn again the words were lost to him, although the warmth of Mikleo’s emotion was not.

That part had never had been. Despite being unable to hear Mikleo’s words, Maotelus and Sorey had felt his presence during the last seven hundred and forty two years. Mikleo was a complicated man, often arriving with turmoil and unrest in his heart. After unloading the details and stresses of his life for hours to Sorey, his heart would relax to warmth and determination. For hundreds of years the visits had worked to soothe the Seraph’s tangled thoughts.

It was only 38 years ago that Mikleo had returned from sailing the seas and Maotelus had withdrawn to tie up the loose ends of malevolence in the ocean, following every thread and purifying the last of the malevolence from deep within the Earthpulse. Since then he could no longer speak with Mikleo. Maotelus often wondered how the outside world was, but was confident the Grand Seraph had prepared the world for their awakening.

But Sorey wasn’t waking up.

“Come on, Sorey. He’s waiting,” echoed Maotelus.

Sorey’s breath rolled in and out, his slow rhythm as steady as it had been for the past seven hundred and forty two years. It wasn’t uncommon for Sorey to slip this deeply into his sleep, sometimes not dreaming for months at a time. Maotelus had never dared to disturb or wake his vessel before. The only conversations they had together was when Sorey had first freed him from Heldalf and formed the pact. He answered the many questions Sorey had about the past, his thoughts a mess of curiosity - Ruins, architecture, language, past cultures, Shepherds and Lords of Calamity. Maotelus had the opportunity to whisper in his mind before fully withdrawing, though Sorey’s thoughts continued to be shared without barrier or limit. Since then their communication had become more complicated and indirect, Maotelus would push forth emotions and visions and Sorey would dream a response, if he had been able to sense the communication at all.

Maotelus had no choice. It was time to break the pact.

Maotelus pulled himself out of Sorey, his light energies solidifying into the form of a sizable white dragon. He rolled his neck and shoulders, watching the relatively tiny human floating in the stream of the Earthpulse, his light continuing to flow, the only indication of which way was up.

“Sorey,” he said, out loud this time, his booming voice echoing in the stream of the Earthpulse. “Wake up.”

Sorey made no movement beyond his gentle breathing cycle. It was of no use, all of his senses were fully shut off. His mind must have been withdrawn. Maotelus nudged at his body with his snout, still earning no reaction. He reached his scaled arm forth, the glow of the rippling Earthpulse reflecting along his pale iridescent scales. He gently gripped Sorey’s body in his clawed paw, careful not to squeeze too tight. Maotelus flexed his wings, aching and stretching before fully beating them behind himself, propelling and thrusting them upwards in one swift motion.

He raised into the sky, freed from the crater, freed from the Earthpulse. He roared, breaking his pact with Sorey and entering one with the Earth, sending a shockwave of warm, gentle light outwards. The roar shook the crater, pebbles falling from the far cliffs into the fields of blooming Princessias and Anemones. The flow of light from Sorey’s body slowed to a thin beam, weakening before finally flickering out.

Maotelus beat his wings in a slow descent by the crater, laying Sorey’s body on a familiar flat rock on the edge. Sorey took a firm, deep breath before finally turning his head side to side, blinking his eyes open. He squinted, adjusting to the brightness of the sun, rubbing his hand over his face.

“Welcome back, Sorey.”

Sorey tried to achingly sit up but found himself wincing in pain. A circle of greenish light surrounded him as Maotelus sent forth a healing spell.

“Take your time,” said Maotelus. “It’s been a long while since you’ve used your body.”

Sorey took a few more deep breaths before trying to sit up again, and this time was successful. He turned to face the white dragon.

“Thank you,” said Sorey, his throat dry and voice raspy.

The dragon chuckled. “Thank you, Sorey.”

“Did it work?” asked Sorey.

Maotelus huffed. “Yes. You’ve sacrificed much, but we’ve restored order.”

Sorey looked up at the dragon and nodded firmly. He glanced to his left, then to his right.

“Is this really where we fought Heldalf?” asked Sorey.

“It is,” said Maotelus. The crater was full of greenery and life, nothing like the broken throne he had recalled from so long ago. He recognized the Anemones as Mikleo’s favorite. He must have planted them here for him to see when he awoke.

Sorey slowly brought his fist to his chest, holding it there firmly. “He... he was here a lot, wasn’t he?”

“As often as he could be.”

Sorey nodded slowly, closing his eyes and remembering the feeling of distant emotion, pulsing with time in an unfathomably slow beat, indiscernible but unmistakable.

“Where is he?” asked Sorey.

“He’s not far.”

“Is it possible... can you take me to him?” asked Sorey.

The dragon smiled, summoning forth four small paper cards. “I thought you might ask.”

Sorey waited as the dragon performed a strange arte. The four cards floated forward, two moving up and two moving down close to the earth, forming a square. The air between them seemed to ripple and vibrate, changing and darkening until a scene appeared. Through the square Sorey saw ruins, grand architecture of ancient stone walls and recessed panels, the walls dancing with reflective light.

Watching intently through the square, he watched as a tall silver haired man enter the chamber. The curious man walked confident but alone. He shielded his eyes with his hand from some sort of bright Seraphic light source above before lowering his eyes to observe the architecture. He seemed to recognize something, pulling a notebook from his bag and jotting down hurried notes.

“That’s... that’s really him?” asked Sorey. He swung his legs over the side of the flat rock, facing the strange window. His eyes widened as he leaned forward with great interest.

Maotelus nodded. “You can go through, when you’re ready.”

Sorey watched as the man analytically contemplated his surroundings, writing his observations and flipping through his notebook. His face was determined, beautiful, but showed no joy.

“Is he happy?” asked Sorey quietly, with a tinge of guilt.

“You’ll have to ask him,” said Maotelus.

Sorey continued watching. “How long has it been?”

“Seven hundred and forty two years.”

Sorey nodded in understanding, his eyes fixed on the man in the portal. He must have been an experienced, weathered explorer by the looks of him now.

“Are you sure he wants to see me?” asked Sorey quietly, standing, his eyes glued to the man. The man’s notebook was gone, presumably back in his bag. Sorey watched as he moved towards the center of the large chamber.

“You know how often he was here,” offered Maotelus.

A thousand thoughts crossed Sorey’s mind, but he was far too determined to cross the portal instead of addressing them. If that stranger was really Mikleo, _his_ Mikleo, then they could figure it out from there. He took a step towards the portal.

“Sorey.”

Sorey looked to Maotelus. Maotelus seemed as though he had something he wanted to address, some tidbit of information about who Mikleo had become, but instead he chose to bite his tongue.

“After you are done with your reunion, meet me in Elysia.”

Sorey nodded. “Of course.”

“And Sorey... let this be the beginning.”

Sorey nodded, and stepped through.  
  


 

* * *

  
  


Lailah perked up from her resting spot within the shrine, recognizing a familiar domain. It was a quiet, warm hum that had once always been present. She rushed to exit the shrine, wandering the top steps, setting her sights on the Western sky.

Sorey’s light was absent.

It must have just happened. No one seemed to have noticed yet. She hurried to the Academy, rushing down the hallways in a fashion that was very unlike her. She found the classroom she was looking for, and opened the door.

Earth Seraph Alisha stood at the helm of the class, leading the students in lecture. Lailah quietly stepped in the classroom, shutting the door behind her and clasping her hands tightly. Once Alisha was finished with her current thought, she excused herself to speak with Lailah.

“Lady Lailah, what brings yo-”

“He’s awake,” said Lailah.

“Sorey?” asked Alisha.

“Yes,” said Lailah. “I sense Maotelus’ domain as well.” Several of the overhearing students began whispering amongst themselves.

“Mikleo left to the Avalon Ruins just yesterday,” said Alisha. “He won’t be back for days.”

“We should leave for the crater to meet Sorey and Maotelus,” said Lailah.

“Yes,” agreed Alisha. “Give me a few moments to gather Rose.” She turned to her class.

“There won’t be a classes for a few days, as it seems that Maotelus and the Sleeping Shepherd have awoken,” she said.

The class began cheering and packing their bags, some standing and hugging each other.

“Let’s go,” said Alisha.

Lailah nodded, smiling.

  


* * *

 

 

The seal was gone, the stairs leading down to the crater were fully visible. The three Seraphim hurriedly climbed down the long staircase, finally meeting Maotelus by the center of the crater.  The crater was no longer an open scar to the Earthpulse but instead had been sealed, now not much more than a few rocks surrounding a large flat circle of Earth in a field of blooming flowers.

The dragon stood in the center of the circle, flexing his wings.

“Maotelus,” called Lailah.

The dragon turned, smiling to see his company. Rose and Alisha tensed, the last time they had visited Maotelus he had taken the form of a small child, not the fierce white dragon before them now.

“Lailah, Alisha and Rose. It’s great to see you.” Although his kind voice soothed them, it was not quite enough to relieve all the tension his massive form brought.

The three women bowed their heads in respect.

“I felt your domain return,” said Lailah. “We came as soon as we could.”

“Where’s our Shepherd?” asked Rose. Rose was just as brash as always, having been reborn as a Wind Seraph only fit her personality more.

“He left to see Mikleo. We’ll be meeting in Elysia,” he said. “I was just about to leave myself. Do you want to come with?” asked Maotelus.

Lailah stepped forward clapping excitedly, the other two Seraphim looking to each other, confused.

Maotelus lowered his head to the ground and extended an arm. Lailah cautiously climbed along his arm, straddling his lower neck. She pressed her forehead to his scales.

“Welcome back, Maotelus.”

“Thank you, Lailah.” He turned to face Alisha and Rose. “Aren’t you coming?”

Rose was next to apprehensively step forward and climb aboard the Dragon’s back, straddling behind Lailah. Alisha followed close behind, straddling the dragon behind Rose and and clutching her tightly.

The dragon began beating his wings, slowly at first, rising into the air and ensuring that his riders had a proper grip before he propelled himself forward, setting a short course to Elysia.

 

* * *

 

Mikleo rubbed his chin and furrowed his brow. He couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched. It was no matter, perhaps another explorer or a Normin had followed him into the newly discovered Avalon Ruins. He walked towards the center of the chamber, undeterred.

“Hmm.”

He made note of the jagged blue crystals surrounding the chamber. He knew all too well that those particular crystal formations were evidence of a powerful being tied to the element of water. He searched once again and couldn’t sense anyone else there, although he noticed a strange distant domain, quiet and humming. The domain was peaceful and brought him no worry. He found himself annoyed that he recognized it as familiar, yet different from anything he’d felt before.

He stepped up a small platform containing a stone structure. Looking closer, a blue jewel was embedded on a worn stone pedestal. It was curiously familiar, almost identical to something he had seen several centuries ago. The whole place was, in fact. Theories flowed through his mind as to the origins and purpose of the ruins. If it was similar to that place, then perhaps this jewel functioned similarly. He reached out his hand and placed a gloved finger on the jewel, regretting the action it immediately as the stone floor gave way below him.

 _A trap_ , he thought, preparing to summon his staff. _How could I be so..._

His thoughts were interrupted as his descent abruptly stopped. He felt something gripping tightly around his wrist in the confusion.

_Great. First a trap, now something’s got me. Why did I let my guard down?_

Annoyed, he looked up to determine the threat, but before he could focus on the figure hanging on to him he felt a warm, kind domain wash over him, the particular domain achingly more familiar than the distant hum. He focused his eyes, curious to determine who or what was holding on to him.

He didn’t expect to see a familiar silhouette looking back down at him. Wild, tousled hair, feathered earrings and the outline of a Shepherd's cloak.

_Sorey?_

He couldn’t help but smile hopefully at the figure, curious but cautious. He reached his other arm forward, holding on to the wrist of the hand gripping his own.  The hand wore a white fingerless glove emblazoned with the Shepherd’s crest, decorated with a string of red beads and two orange feathers. He pulled against the arm, tensing his upper body. The figure pulled as well, and soon Mikleo was once again on solid ground.

Mikleo stood slowly, facing the man. He certainly looked just like Sorey, but he had been fooled before. The man watched him curiously, his shining emerald eyes following every one of Mikleo’s slow motions.

“...Sorey?” asked Mikleo, his voice shaking with apprehension. “Is it really you?”

The brown haired man smiled kindly, reaching his arm out in front of him, his hand forming a fist. Mikleo raised his own instinctually, bumping his wrist against the other man’s.

“Mikleo,” he said. “It’s good to see you.”

“Sorey!”

Mikleo threw himself into a full body hug, grasping Sorey tightly. He pressed his chin against Sorey’s neck, squeezing his body closer with his arms. He felt Sorey’s forehead against his shoulder and his hands travelling slowly up his back, holding him in return. His childhood friend, his companion, his first Shepherd. The reason for his determination and driving force behind his life’s work.  The man he had been in love with his whole life, his soulmate.

But Sorey didn’t know.

“It’s good to see you too,” said Mikleo, tears streaming down his face unchecked. “Welcome back.”

Sorey’s hands moved kindly up and down Mikleo’s back. He held Mikleo, but not tightly enough.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” said Sorey, earning a chuckle from Mikleo.

“How did you find me?” asked Mikleo.

“Maotelus,” answered Sorey.

“Figures,” he said, squeezing Sorey just a little tighter. “I wish I was there when you woke up.”

“I know you visited a lot,” said Sorey. “I felt it.”

“Can’t prove it,” retorted Mikleo.

Sorey hummed, his arms moving to hold Mikleo’s lower back. Mikleo inhaled in delight at the feeling of Sorey’s hands on his body.

“Why’d you get so tall,” muttered Sorey, more of a statement than a question.

Mikleo chuckled. “Not like I can control that.”

“That’s not entirely true, is it?”

Mikleo snorted a laugh, his breaths slightly shuddered.

“Hey, are you crying?” asked Sorey.

“Mmm..no...,” said Mikleo, burying his face further into Sorey’s neck, his tears safely hidden in the Shepherd’s cloak.

Sorey coughed.

Mikleo pulled away, quick to analyze Sorey’s face. Their eyes met briefly as Mikleo’s darted in concern.

“Are you alright?” asked Mikleo, his hands still loosely holding Sorey’s back.

“Yeah, I’m just...” Sorey scratched the back of his neck. “Could I trouble you for some, uh... water?”

Mikleo raised his eyebrows in surprise, then furrowed them in thought, looking down. He began digging in his travel bag, muttering to himself.

“Of all the things... maybe I... Sorey, I don’t have a cup, but maybe I-”

“It’s okay,” said Sorey quietly. “I don’t mind. Just, you know, like we used to do?” asked Sorey.

Mikleo hesitantly obliged, pulling his glove from his left hand and raising his cupped palm in front of Sorey.

“Of course,” he said quietly. “Have as much as you want.”

Sorey seemed to look at him apprehensively before raising his own hands to Mikleo’s, bringing the cupped palm closer to his mouth. Mikleo jumped slightly at the sensation of Sorey’s warm lips against the side of his hand. Sorey tilted the hand in his when he was ready, cold water pouring freely across his lips. Mikleo closed his eyes to avoid the distraction, easily channelling the now seemingly tiny amount of mana it took to maintain the flow. Once Sorey had enough, he gently tilted Mikleo’s hand away. Mikleo stopped the flow, his eyes still closed and breaths awkwardly shallow. He felt Sorey’s hand travelling over his, his calloused fingers turning Mikleo’s hand over in his own. Mikleo opened his eyes to see Sorey pressing his hand against Mikleo’s, comparing size. He did his best to keep his shudder from being visible as their palms slid together. Sorey hummed in slight disappointment to see that Mikleo’s slim fingertips finally eked out the length of his own.

“Sit with me?” asked Mikleo, smiling kindly.

Sorey nodded, sitting on the temple floor, his knees tucked close to his chest.  Mikleo sat on one leg with the other outstretched straight, pushing his hip out slightly.

“This warm domain, it’s Maotelus’, isn’t it?” asked Mikleo.

“Yeah,” said Sorey. “I bet it was like this all the time in the past.”

Mikleo nodded, smiling. “I’m glad I can experience it. It feels safe,” said Mikleo. “I suppose that means he’s taken the Earth as his vessel.” He paused. “Do you still have a pact with him?”

“I don’t think I have any pacts,” asked Sorey. He looked to his hand, which began glowing with a silver flame. “Looks like I can still purify, though.” He shut his hand, the flame easily extinguishing.

Mikleo nodded. “I have the power as well, as a Prime Lord. All your Sub Lords do now.”

Sorey grinned. “Did you use it often?”

Mikleo chuckled. “Quite a bit, in fact.”

_I won’t ask you to make a pact with me, Sorey. But please, please be my vessel again. Please._

Sorey fiddled with the buckle on his sleeve. “So...” he started. “Was it easy to find more people with resonance?”

“It was, thanks to you,” said Mikleo. “It was quite a mess right after you went to sleep. Humans thought they were crazy for finally seeing us. Most recognized us as flashes or felt our presence. Some could fully see us right away. Future generations were born with more and more resonance. Finding and training Shepherds only got easier with time,” said Mikleo.

“Training?”

“Yes, at the Academy. We-”

“Academy?” asked Sorey excitedly.

Mikleo smiled and looked away. “Yes. Alisha founded Diphda Academy in Ladylake, we became a center for educating and training the spiritual powers of would-be Shepherds.”

“Wow, that’s so cool! Did you learn a lot there?” asked Sorey.

Mikleo chuckled. “You could say that. I taught a lot there, too.”

Sorey’s eyes opened wide.

Mikleo chuckled. “Many Shepherds know me as Professor Mikleo,” said Mikleo, tilting his head towards his shrugged shoulder.

Mikleo relaxed his face and smiled his most charming smile, the smile he had rehearsed for hours just for Sorey. He shook his head slightly, bringing his long ponytail to the forefront, silvery and turquoise waves cascading over his shoulder. Sorey definitely seemed to take notice, his eyes following the length of his ponytail.

“I still teach, unless I won’t have time for it anymore. Do you still want to explore ruins together, Sorey?”

Sorey’s curious green eyes snapped up from staring at his hair to meet Mikleo’s curious expression.

“It’s always been my dream,” said Sorey.

Mikleo hummed. “You can touch it, if you want.”

Sorey blushed wildly, having been caught staring. Mikleo smirked, shaking his head again to bring his fluffy ponytail forward. Sorey apprehensively scooted closer before reaching his hand forward, leaning closer to Mikleo. He took the ponytail in his fingers, running down the length. He shivered slightly at the feeling of gentle tugging against his scalp.

“It’s really soft,” said Sorey quietly. Mikleo relaxed his eyes, leaning further forward just a bit. Sorey continued playing, curling locks of Mikleo’s hair between his fingers.

“How long did it take to grow?” asked Sorey.

_Gods, never stop touching my hair._

“It got to about shoulder length a few months after you went to sleep,” said Mikleo. “It stayed there for a while, a few years. Just long enough to put in a ponytail. Wouldn’t grow any longer, so I cut it. I tried again a few decades later, that time it grew to mid back. I let it keep growing from there. It probably took about a hundred and fifty years to get as long as it is now.”

Sorey dropped Mikleo’s ponytail, drawing his hand back quickly.

“What, did I say something-”

Sorey’s expression turned to confusion and concern.

“Mikleo, you...,” he pointed to Mikleo’s heart. Mikleo looked down, then back up, meeting the concern in Sorey’s eyes.

 _Of course he can sense it,_ thought Mikleo. _Damn. I hoped it would be a bit longer before he noticed._

Mikleo bit his lip, fighting the twist felt in the pit of his stomach. “You can sense the malevolence, can’t you, Sorey?”

Sorey clutched his arm. “Mikleo, why? Why is there malevolence in your heart?”

_You’ve had a lot of time to think about this, Mikleo. You can handle it._

Mikleo took a deep breath before responding. He pursed his lips and looked down.

“I spent many years purifying malevolence, putting myself in harms’ way. It came with a price, Sorey. With so much exposure, and my element... I became scarred.”

Sorey nodded slowly and sadly in understanding. “Can it be purified?”

Mikleo forced a smile, his eyes not agreeing with the expression. “I’ve tried. It won’t take. They’re seeds. They react to high levels of malevolence. But I’m safe now, between all the Shepherd’s domains, and now Maotelus. I promise, it’s nothing to worry about.”

Sorey didn’t look the slightest bit convinced.

“Sorey, the world has changed,” he said more quietly. “There’s no malevolence like there used to be. It’s very well controlled.”

“How did this happen?” asked Sorey.

“It wasn’t any one thing,” said Mikleo. “Sorey, I promise to tell you everything. Anything you ask about the past, I’ll tell you. I’ll keep no secrets. But for now, can we just celebrate that you’re back, and that you and Maotelus have restored order?”

Sorey looked away.

“I’ve lived with it for a very long time,” said Mikleo quietly. “And I figure it will be there for the rest of my life. I’ve had to accept it. It hasn’t bothered any of my Shepherds. It doesn’t cause me problems anymore and... it’s not like it’s contagious or anything.”

Mikleo waited patiently for his response. He wondered if his explanation was enough for Sorey to understand. He panicked silently, refusing to let his anxiety show. Sorey was silent for a long time before glancing over at Mikleo’s travel bag, and finally breaking the silence.

“Do you still have it?”

“I do,” said Mikleo, pulling the Celestial Record from his bag. He gingerly handed it to Sorey, who took it and began flipping through the pages.

Sorey finally smiled, looking at the writing they now knew was Michael’s, and their own faded, centuries old notes scribbled in the margins.

“It goes without saying to be careful,” said Mikleo. “That book is quite old, and it’s... it’s also my vessel.”

Sorey seemed to panic, pushing the book back towards Mikleo. Mikleo took it from his hands, trying to push away the feeling of having been rejected. It was to no avail, the pit of his stomach twisted once again and rang with pain.

“I’ll look at it later,” said Sorey.

Another awkward silence passed between the men.

“If you’re looking for this ruin in the Celestial Record, you won’t find it,” said Mikleo, standing, facing away from Sorey. “The Avalon Ruins were found recently after a landslide near Falkewin exposed part of the entryway. The Academy commissioned the excavation. Few know about it’s existence, although the ruin is open to anyone that may enter.”

“The architecture is extraordinarily similar to Palamedes Temple, down to the jeweled trap. Palamedes was built during the Era of Asgard by humans as a place of Seraphic worship over the closest Earthpulse to Amenoch. Since this seems to be a replica, there’s no telling when it was built. The blue crystals indicate an elemental of great strength spent time here, but there’s no sign of them now. The whole ruin was empty when we found it. I have however noticed that the ruins seem to be separated into four quadrants, one for each major element, and the water quadrant is on the Southeast corner - the same direction Palamedes Temple is from here. I have had theories that similar temples of great importance may exist over hidden Earthpulses, but I have not found them. This temple may provide a clue as to which direction each one is in.”

“You do sound like a professor,” said Sorey.

Mikleo smiled, turning back to Sorey. “So, what would you like to do now, Sorey?”

“Well,” said Sorey, “Maotelus said to meet him in Elysia. But I think I’d like to explore this ruin a bit more first.”

Mikleo chuckled. “I’ll show you what I’ve found on the way out, but it seems we’ll have to come back when your time is not so urgently requested.”

Sorey wrinkled his nose. “Are you sure? We can take a while longer.”

Mikleo kindly shook his head no. “Your family in Elysia has been preparing for a long time. There’s sure to be a celebration, and you’re the guest of honor. We should head there as quick as we can. We’re not far,” offered Mikleo. “This way,” he said, walking towards the exit.

Sorey followed as Mikleo led them through the Wind, Earth and Fire quadrants. The ruins were truly magnificent, expansive and sprawling. Mikleo explained the areas as well as he could with the limited knowledge he had of these ruins. Sorey couldn’t help but lag behind, amazed by the grandeur of the ruin. They reached the exit, the overhead sun hitting their eyes. They began to climb down the vine covered staircase, deep in conversation about theory and architecture.

“Hail, Grand Seraph!” called a voice from the bottom of the stair.

Mikleo hummed, looking forward for the voice. A travelling merchant knelt, his horse led caravan behind him. Mikleo sighed upon spotting the kneeling man. He rushed down the remaining stairs, Sorey following close behind.

“Grand Seraph,” repeated the man. “I was passing through and saw you leaving. Are there any services I may offer you?” asked the man.

“Please stand,” said Mikleo. “There’s no need for flourish.”

“Please, Grand Seraph. Do you need supplies? Transportation?”

“Where are you headed?” asked Mikleo.

“Well, I can go anywhere you’d like.” said the man.

Mikleo chuckled. “There’s no need for that. Where are you headed?” repeated Mikleo.

“Pendrago,” said the man.

“Spread the word in Pendrago that Maotelus has awoken.”

“Maotelus be praised!” said the man. “I will do as you ask.”

“Ask the clergy to prepare the Shrinechurch for Maotelus. Spare no expense and bill the Academy.”

“I will do so, Grand Seraph.” He glanced at Sorey behind him, noticing his Shepherd’s cloak. “If Maotelus is awake, is that...”

“Uh, hello,” said Sorey. “I’m Sorey.”

The man fell to the floor, kneeling once again.

“Maotelus’ Great Vessel!” said the man. “Please, if there is anything you need-”

“Uh, I’m okay, thanks,” said Sorey. The man peeked up.

“You have my thanks for spreading the word,” said Mikleo. “Shouldn’t you be on your way now?”

The man stood, dusting himself off. “Yes, of course. Thank you, Grand Seraph. Great Shepherd. Thank you. Thank you.”

“It’s, uh, no big deal,” said Sorey, scratching the back of his head.

“Your work is appreciated, kind sir,” said Mikleo.

He mounted his saddle and began trotting slowly, his caravan in tow.

“We must be vigilant when heading to Elysia,” said Mikleo, beginning to walk toward their destination. “Humans still do not know the location.”

Sorey nodded. “Right. So... Grand Seraph?”

“Yes, Great Shepherd, O Great Vessel of Maotelus, The Sleeping Shepherd, Savior of this world?” asked Mikleo with flourish, smirking.

Sorey blushed. “Do people really call me that?”

“They do.”

Sorey scratched the back of his head. “That’s really... not necessary,” said Sorey.

Mikleo shrugged. “The people love you. The world has been waiting for you to awaken for a very long time.”

“I don’t really care for fame,” said Sorey.

“You’ll get used to it,” said Mikleo. “You could always take off your cloak. But there’s a few statues people might recognize you from.”

“Statues?”

“Sure, there’s one right in front of the Academy.”

“Are there any statues of you?”

“Maybe.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know,” said Mikleo.

“Come on, Mikleo, tell me, I wanna see them someday!”

“I forget.”

“Did you really?”

“No.”

He grinned at Sorey, his heart relaxing momentarily before remembering that Sorey still had not touched him since sensing the malevolence in his heart. The old Sorey, _his_ Sorey was never afraid to be physical. He would have coupled his teasing with roughhousing, and eventual tickle fights. Gods, how he missed those stupid tickle fights.

He swallowed, pushing the thought away, ignoring the twisting in the pit of his stomach. After a few more awkward moments of silence, the conversation returned to history, architecture and ruins as the men headed towards Elysia.


	2. Seeds

“He’s here!”

Mikleo glanced at Sorey, hearing the small voice just past the gates of Elysia. They ascended the hill nearing crowds of Seraphim overflowing past to the gates, vibrant music and smells of food filling the air. Mikleo caught sight of the source of the voice, a small blonde haired boy in a white gown perched on the shoulder of a long haired tanned Wind Seraph, wearing an open leather jacket and matching pants. Mikleo waved at the odd pair. Sorey glanced at Mikleo for permission, Mikleo nodding quickly. Sorey jogged towards the crowd, waving to meet with the rest of the Seraphim.

Mikleo watched as Sorey was absorbed into the crowd, fawned and touched by countless Seraphim, some his family from Elysia and some he had never known. Natalie, Kyme, Lailah, Muse. They greeted him with hugs and kind touches of their forehead.

Mikleo awkwardly stepped back, understanding that he wasn’t needed right now. He found himself avoiding the crowd and moving towards his house, finally reaching the inside and shutting the door behind him. He leaned back against the door raising his chin towards the ceiling. His knees weakened as his body slumped to the floor, his tears flowing unrestricted.

He sat with wide eyes and hitched breaths, doing his best to understand and process the wild emotion charging through him. His mind retraced his actions, wondering if he could have said or done something differently. Years, decades, centuries of plans raced through his thoughts. He thought of everywhere he would have liked to have shown to Sorey, thousands upon thousands of landmarks he had spent his life laboring to document and catalog. The world he explored so thoroughly for no better reason than to guide his best friend through. It meant nothing now. Centuries of waiting and hoping, remembering every visit to the crater where he poured his heart out to Sorey. He couldn’t listen to him then, and he refused to listen now. Sorey had rejected him. It all was for nothing.

His breaths caught in his throat, now frustrated and annoyed at the merriment and joy audible just outside. They couldn’t help it, they had been waiting just as long as he had for their return. They deserved their celebration. Order was restored after all, at least for them.

He was startled by a knock at the door.

He scooched forward, shaking his head in annoyance. The knocker opened the door and slipped in.

“Geez, Mikky, every Wind Seraph in Elysia can read your turmoil. What’s going on?”

“Zaveid, I...” Mikleo glanced at Zaveid before turning away, his words trailing to silence.

Zaveid furrowed his brow, sitting on the floor beside Mikleo. Mikleo sniffed, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. He pulled his leather gloves off one at a time, pushing them into his bag, finally covering his face with his now bare hands.

“You know he’s out there wondering where you went?”

Mikleo sighed. “This isn’t what I had hoped.”

“What’s going on, Mikster?”

“Is it...” Mikleo paused, his voice quieting. “Is it that bad?”

“Is what that bad?”

“My malevolence.” Mikleo looked away, one hand still covering his mouth, shutting his eyes tightly.

Zaveid sighed loudly as he snaked his arm around Mikleo’s back, pulling him closer. Mikleo leaned against Zaveid.

“Ahh Mikster, it’s not as bad as you think. Eizen was far worse.”

“But he noticed it right away.”

Zaveid nodded. “We knew this might happen. You explained it, right?”

“He won’t touch me. He must think I’m... I’m disgusting. And he doesn’t know the half of it.”

“Hey. Pull yourself together.”

“How can I? He’s finally awake and he won’t... he doesn’t want anything to do with me. And he certainly won’t when he learns more about what I’ve done.”

“He’s just scared, Mikky. He doesn’t understand what’s going on.”

Mikleo’s hands dropped from his face to his upper arms, cradling and squeezing himself. He tapped his foot nervously.

“What would he want with an old damaged Seraph anyway?” he muttered.

“C’mon, quit that. You know the first thing he did when he woke up was come find you?”

“That was before he knew about... that I...”

“C’mon, Mikster.”

Mikleo tilted his head towards Zaveid, raising his pleading eyebrows.

“It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t want me around. I’ve been waiting for nothing,” he choked.

“He’s out there looking for you right now,” said Zaveid, standing. “Give him a chance. He’ll come around.” He held out his hand. “Don’t leave him out there alone, yeah? He needs you.”

Mikleo apprehensively took Zaveid’s hand and stood.

“Do you want me to talk to him for you?”

“No, I... I can handle it.”

“You sure?”

Mikleo let out a choking sound before finally speaking. “Yeah.”

Zaveid pulled Mikleo closer, thrusting his arm around the younger Seraph and firmly patting his back. For hundreds of years Mikleo had edged closer to Zaveid’s height, never quite reaching it unless he was measured by the top of his fluffy ponytail. Zaveid gripped Mikleo’s upper arms.

“You’re stronger than this, Mik. He’s finally awake. Go get ‘em.”

Mikleo swayed, unconvinced.

“Muse is making you a plate,” continued Zaveid. “I’ll walk with you.”

Mikleo wrinkled his nose and followed Zaveid out the door. Within moments, Muse was pushing a plate of roast prickleboar and various roasted vegetable sides at him.

“My son, please eat something.”

Mikleo glanced around before taking the plate. “Thanks, mom.”

“He is around here somewhere,” she said, looking around for Sorey. Zaveid’s arm quickly found his home around her, whispering something into her ear from behind. Mikleo forced a tight lipped smile before turning away, moving towards one of many bonfires lit by the plentiful Fire Seraphim. He found a log nearby and sat, balancing his plate of food on his knees, watching the quickly setting sun in the early Spring sky and listening to the merry ballads floating in the air.

The embers from the bonfire rose and danced into the sky. Mikleo couldn’t help but be reminded of Sorey’s light and all the times he had poured his heart out to him. Now he was here, and he felt more lost than ever. Sorey had always been his guiding light and his relief. He wondered for a moment if Sorey was a better listener unconscious than he seemed to be now. He absentmindedly ate the food on his plate, his vision focusing on nothing in particular.

“Hey.”

Mikleo shuddered suddenly, having been abruptly reminded where he was. He looked to his side. Sorey’s charming smile beamed from his seat on the log beside him, his vibrant green eyes reflecting the fire and sunset.

“Hey,” responded Mikleo quietly. He took another small bite of the roast prickleboar.

“Where’d you run off to?” asked Sorey.

Mikleo finished chewing before responding. “I had something to take care of in my house,” he said.

Sorey seemed to recognize the half-truth. He nodded slowly as his smile faded.

“Have you eaten?” asked Mikleo.

“I did, everyone made sure I ate. The prickleboar was really good.”

“Yeah.”

The boys sat in uncomfortable silence. Mikleo wondered if it wrenched at Sorey’s heart as much as it did his. He grimaced, setting his plate beside him on the log.

“I should give this back,” said Mikleo, reaching into his bag. He pulled out _The Celestial Record_ , setting it on his knee briefly. He placed his hand over it. A small white circle of decorative light danced around it before fading.

“Here. It’s no longer my vessel.” He pushed the book towards Sorey. Sorey looked down at the book and back up to Mikleo. He nodded. Sorey took it, flipping through it briefly before closing it again.

“You need a vessel, don’t you? For protection?”

_Gods, I wish you were offering, Sorey. But we both know better._

Mikleo half-smiled and shrugged. “Not really, and especially not in Elysia. Besides, I have plenty of other books I could use.”

“What kind of books?” asked Sorey, attaching _The Celestial Record_ to his belt.

Mikleo leaned over and took a final bite of the roast quillboar before pushing the plate further away. Once again he finished chewing before speaking. “Probably a different Volume of _The Celestial Record._ ”

“Different Volume?”

“Sure, maybe Volume Three or Seven. Those are probably my favorites.”

“Volume Seven? Of _The Celestial Record_?”

“Well sure,” said Mikleo. “I told you I was going to write a book, didn’t I? I suppose you slept for long enough that I had time to write a few.”

“Can I see them?”

“I suppose I’ve got a few copies in my house,” said Mikleo.

Sorey stood.

Mikleo chuckled. “Of course. You mean now.” He stood as well, noticing the last of the sun’s rays falling behind the mountaintop. “You remember which house is mine?”

“I sure do!” said Sorey. Mikleo smiled and nodded at Sorey as he walked ahead. Mikleo followed behind him, careful not to touch him on accident. Sorey opened the door, wandering into Mikleo’s small house. He immediately slowed his pace, taking notice of the countless rows of small glimmering water vials covering several walls floor to ceiling. Each small container was labelled and organized carefully, quivering slightly with every vibrating footstep.

“Wow... did you collect all of these?”

“I did,” said Mikleo, lighting a few well placed candles to illuminate the room. “Each one is from a body of water I’ve visited during my travels.”

Sorey pulled one vial from a nearby shelf, turning it over in his hands and reading the label to himself before replacing it. “You’ve been to a lot of places,” he said quietly.

Mikleo smiled and laughed quietly through his nose. “The books are over here. You’ll have to forgive the mess, I wasn’t expecting company.”

Sorey quirked an eyebrow, unable to recognize what could possibly have been out of place in the tightly organized house. A row of thick volumes sat along the top of Mikleo’s desk, as well as a small bookshelf of textbooks he didn’t recognize. He sat at the desk, pulling _Volume Two_ from the shelf and flipping through.

“You wrote this?” asked Sorey.

“I did,” repeated Mikleo, pulling up a chair next to Sorey.

“Wow,” said Sorey. “This is amazing.”

“Thanks,” said Mikleo, a blush rising across his face.

“The world was a lot bigger than we expected,” said Sorey. He flipped through the pages of another volume and seemed to lean just a little closer to Mikleo, yet still out of reach.

“It really is,” said Mikleo calmly.

_He’s warming up,_ thought Mikleo. _Maybe he’d be okay with touching again._

“Can we retrace your footsteps?” asked Sorey.

Mikleo smiled sadly, knowing Sorey’s short life wouldn’t be enough to cover nearly seven hundred years of his life’s work.

“Sure,” said Mikleo. “Our dream was to explore ruins together, after all.”

“Yeah,” said Sorey before flipping a page and furrowing his brow. “Maybe if we retrace your steps, we can figure out how to fix you.”

Mikleo froze. So the seeds of malevolence were still on Sorey’s mind.

“Sorey, they’re scars. And I’m not broken.” Mikleo grimaced, trying to ignore the dizzy, lightheaded feeling that had washed over him.

“Can you tell me what book to read? When it happened?”

“It wasn’t any one thing, Sorey.”

“Then lots of bad things did happen to you,” said Sorey. “I knew it.”

“I didn’t say-” Mikleo let out an exasperated, shaky sigh. “I put myself in the heart of danger for hundreds of years. Nothing happened to me that I wasn’t responsible for.”

“Surely there’s something in one of these books that will give us a clue,” said Sorey.

“It’s not in the books,” said Mikleo.

“But you know what did this to you,” said Sorey. “Tell me. Maybe I can help. You shouldn’t shoulder this burden alone.”

“I don’t need help,” said Mikleo, gripping his own arm. “And you don’t need to know. Not now.”

“I just want to fix you,” said Sorey. “You told me you wouldn’t keep any secrets from me.”

“I told you, I’m not broken. It can’t be fixed. And I would appreciate if you would drop this idea.”

“Not going to happen,” said Sorey adamantly. “I already decided I’m going to help you.”

“I don’t need help.”

“And you’ll be pure again, just like you used-”

“I am pure, Sorey, and it’s under control,” Mikleo said, losing his patience. His stomach twisted uncomfortably.

“Just tell me how it happened,” said Sorey, flipping through the pages of Volume Four.

“No.”

“Why?”

“It’s not going to help,” said Mikleo, tightening his grip on his arm.

“How can you be so sure?” asked Sorey.

“Leave it alone,” mumbled Mikleo.

“Tell me,” asked Sorey.

“No.”

“Why not, Mikleo? Why are you hiding what happened?”

“You don’t need to know,” said Mikleo.

“But what if I can help you?”

“No.”

“Mikleo, please,” begged Sorey.

“Fine,” snapped Mikleo. He stood rapidly, the wooden chair clattering against the floor noisily as it moved back. Sorey averted his eyes and looked down at the books, scared of his friend’s sudden movement.

“What would you have me say?” Mikleo said, in a sharp tone that surprised both of them. “That before Volume Two when Rose and I killed Symmone with the blessed bow, she left traces of malevolence in my heart?”

Flashes of red anger blinded his vision. Mikleo turned away, his six tailed cape and ponytail whipping behind him, unable to look at Sorey any longer.

“Or that it happened between Volumes Three and Four when I was made to consort with a hellion? Or maybe it was during Volume Six when my Shepherd became malevolent?”

Mikleo stepped towards his bed, the contempt palpable in his shaking fists. Sorey watched him carefully.

“Or in Volume Seven when I finally became a drake and tried to kill my family and shipmates?”

Sorey let out an unexpected horrified gasp as Mikleo sat shivering on his bed, his fringe covering his lowered eyes.

“Maybe it was the countless times I was careless and needed purification over, and over, and over. Nothing happened to me that I wasn’t responsible for,” Mikleo muttered under his breath.

Sorey watched him carefully, now regretting having needled his friend into talking about his past.

Sorey moved slowly from the desk as though he was trying not to startle a wild creature, sitting by Mikleo on the bed, far enough to not risk touching him on accident.

Mikleo huffed a small laugh, shaking his head, recognizing that Sorey must have been convinced he was contagious. Poisoned. Malevolent.

“I didn’t know. I’m...”

Mikleo laughed. “You didn’t _know_ ? You thought something that caused _this_ would have been easy to talk about?”

“Mikleo, I just... I just want to help.”

“Right,” said Mikleo. “You can’t leave well enough alone. I told you, they’re a part of me now and have been for hundreds of years. They’re never going away.”

“Maybe if you could let go, I could try to-”

Mikleo sighed. “Do you think I haven’t tried purification?”

“I just thought-”

“Sorey,” he said sharply. “I’ve dealt with it for a very long time, and will continue to deal with it long after you’re gone. As long as I keep myself away from malevolence, there’s no danger. And being safe has become possible because of you and Maotelus. You’ve already done enough.”

Sorey sat by him, looking away in uncomfortable silence.

_He won’t touch me. He’s afraid of me. And now I’ve pushed him away. Everything is ruined, just as I feared could happen. And it’s my fault._

It was in the things Sorey wouldn’t do, the things he wouldn’t say that drove Mikleo to frustrated, silent tears. He really did just want to innocently help. And Mikleo was dragging him down.

“You should go,” he said quietly, allowing the tears to drip down his chin. “You have a whole party outside waiting for you. Surely they are missing their guest of honor.”

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” muttered Sorey.

“Go,” said Mikleo. “What do you want with an old, broken Seraph anyway?”

“No. I can’t leave you alone like this.”

“You left me alone for seven hundred years,” said Mikleo. “What’s another night?”

“Mikleo, I...” Sorey stood. “Don’t say things like that. That’s not fair.”

“Go,” Mikleo repeated.

“I’m not sorry I went to sleep,” said Sorey. “I’m sad you were alone, yes, but I don’t regret it. I can’t regret it.”

“Go,” said Mikleo.

“And if I were there, maybe I could have stopped this from happening,” said Sorey.

Mikleo chuckled quietly.

“What’s so funny?”

Mikleo stayed quiet.

“Mikleo, come on. Tell me.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. Please, tell me.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Mikleo, come on.”

Mikleo spoke quietly. “Maybe you could have kept me safe, for a while. But then you would have died by now, Sorey. You’re human.”

“Mikleo...”

“And I’m old now, time moves so fast for me. Soon you’ll be gone again. You can’t stop me from destroying myself.”

“But-”

He laughed again to himself through the tears. “And to think I wanted more. I was a fool. Gods, I’m so stupid. It could never have worked.”

“Mikleo!” Sorey said, taking a step back. “What are you even-”

“And the more you learn about me, the less you’ll want to be around.”

“That’s not true, I-”

“You’re scared of me. You don’t want to touch me. I’m not stupid.”

“No, Mikleo, I-”

“If I were you, I’d get as far away from me as you can. That’s what you want to do, isn’t it? Run away?”

“Stop,” pleaded Sorey.

“Save me some pain and just say goodbye now.”

_Before I really remember what being around you is like. Before I miss your touch, your smell, your warmth... before I can miss you being around again._

“Stop it!” said Sorey. “Stop talking like this!”

“You’re making your party wait,” said Mikleo. “Go.”

“Don’t push me away, Mikleo,” pleaded Sorey. “You’re all I have.”

“The party outside in your honor would say otherwise. Go.”

“Mikleo...” He furrowed his brow, his hand balling into a fist.

“Go,” said Mikleo, his voice cracking. He wrapped his blanket over his body, shutting out the light in the room.

“I’m not giving up on you,” said Sorey.

“You already have. Get out of my house.”

“That’s not true. Mikleo, if you would just-”

“Get out.”

“Would you just-”

“Get out!”

“Mikleo, please!” said Sorey, exasperated. He waited for a response, and received none. Mikleo curled his knees closer to his body, his shuddered breaths the only sound audible in the small house, bitterly repeating in his mind that Sorey dare not touch him.

“This isn’t over,” said Sorey. Mikleo shut his eyes tightly as he listened to the door slam.

His mind was numb. Sorey knew how to get under his skin. And in response, he had pushed Sorey away. What did it matter? Sorey wouldn’t touch him. He was too damaged to deserve even that. Beyond that, he was still human. What kind of future could he have really hoped for? He still said unnecessarily hurtful things to his best friend. He pursed his lips, unable to stop the flow of tears. He had cried enough for today.

  


* * *

  


  
The sun had fully set by the time Sorey left Mikleo’s home. He glanced around through the crowd of unfamiliar Seraphim hoping to spot anyone he knew. The glowing light from bonfires lit Elysia, embers floating effortlessly into the sky. He sighed to himself knowing his own stubbornness was second only to Mikleo’s. He waved kindly at faces smiling at him, meandering closer to the festivities. He thought he saw Lailah briefly, smiling and chatting with Maotelus. He continued scanning, catching a glimpse of Rose and Alisha holding each other close, dancing slowly. He wondered for a moment if he belonged there in Elysia at all. The only human amongst Seraphim. Without his best friend.

He finally spotted Zaveid deep in conversation with Muse, a serious look on his face. He took notice of Muse’s thick silver and blonde braid trailing behind her. Her hair must have been just as thick and difficult to tame as Mikleo’s, albeit not as curly.

Zaveid met his eyes briefly, perking up and waving. Sorey waved back, heading towards the couple. Muse took a few steps forward and met him first.

She reached her hand forward, gently brushing her fingertips against his sleeve in passing. He nodded, smiling at the kind gesture, following her with his eyes as she walked past. He realized she was headed towards Mikleo’s home. His heart seized in sudden panic that the turmoil he had a hand in creating was about to be discovered. His eyes locked on the door as he felt another familiar warm hand on him.

“OId Sheps,” said Zaveid, firmly patting him on the back. “Let’s have ourselves a little chat.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Mikleo heard a gentle knocking at his door. He rolled over in his bed whimpering, annoyed at the idea of having to entertain someone right now. He pursed his lips, not wanting to share what had happened with anyone else. The gentle knocker let themselves in, closing the door carefully and silently behind them. They blew out the candles in Mikleo’s home before sitting quietly on his bed. Mikleo’s breath hitched.

The visitor hummed a familiar melody, gently pulling the blankets from Mikleo’s face. He clutched and fought against them, but lost against the gentle tugging when he recognized the melody.

Muse tilted her head and smiled, reaching her hand to tuck Mikleo’s bangs behind his ear. She wiped his tears with her thumb, holding his face briefly.

“Mom...” he whined.

_I’m lucky I still have you, I’m lucky Maotelus brought you back to me. You’re there for me now, and you were there last time I was lost to malevolence. I don’t know what I’d do without you._

She smiled again and continued humming. He shut his eyes tightly. Her slim fingers moved quickly, travelling up his temples and pulling his circlet loose. She placed the circlet on his nightstand, sliding closer to him on the bed and stroking his bangs. She continued humming the melody, Mikleo now recognizing it as the lullaby she would sing to the Elysian children, and once to him long ago.

“He hates me,” said Mikleo.

She continued humming and stroking his hair, as though her actions disagreed with the statement.

“I don’t know what to do,” said Mikleo. “I don’t know if I can fix this.”

Muse paused humming.

  
“Time heals all wounds, my son.”   
  
She tousled her fingers through her son’s hair. She resumed humming the soothing melody, stroking his hair for as long as he needed until he finally found sleep.

  



	3. Oath and Pact

Mikleo was startled awake by a gentle knocking at his door. He sat up in bed, blinking and squinting. The mornings were always beautiful in his home, the sunlight shone through his window at just the right angle to reflect the glittering vials of water on his shelves and create a prismatic show of light. He fussed with his messy ponytail before pulling it out and laying back down. He found himself wearing only his black ruffled undershirt, socks and pants. He must have taken his coat and boots off at some point in the night, or perhaps Muse had done it for him.

“Come in,” he mumbled, pulling the blanket over his head.

Muse quietly entered his house, crossing the small space and seating herself on Mikleo’s bed. She reached under the blanket and resumed playing with Mikleo’s hair.

“Good morning, my son,” she said.

Mikleo whimpered.

“Are you feeling any better?” she asked.

“Not really,” he said.

She smiled. “I’m sure you will soon. From what you’ve told me, I’m sure you two will be inseperable soon enough.”

Mikleo whimpered again. “Not if he’s going to continue being stubborn.”

“And you’re not guilty of the same, my son?”

“Maybe,” he said, trying to pull the blanket back over his head. She wrinkled her nose and scratched his scalp pleasantly.

“I... really... I screwed up yesterday. What if that’s it? What if I lost my chance?” asked Mikleo.

“I’m confident you haven’t,” said Muse.

“Why, what do you know?” asked Mikleo.

“Time heals all wounds.” She leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on his forehead.

There was another knock at the door, this one more urgent. Muse stood to answer the door.

“Good morning, Sorey,” she said.

Mikleo pulled the remaining blanket over his head. He listened intently to their conversation.

“Good morning, Miss Muse,” he said. “Wow, it’s really pretty in here. Is... is he doing any better?”

“He could use your company,” said Muse kindly.

“Are you sure? He’s not still mad at me?”

“Be patient with him. He has been through a lot.”

Mikleo heard the sloshing of water. “I brought this,” said Sorey.

“I’ll put it on for you,” she said. “He keeps his teas on the shelf up there.”

Sorey chuckled. “I know.”

Mikleo heard the swinging of his creaky cabinet shelf opening, the crackling of a fresh log in his wood stove, and the clanking of jars of teas being pulled from the cabinet.

“These all smell so good,” said Sorey. “I can’t choose.”

“He grows most of them himself,” said Muse. “This one’s my personal favorite, and if I’m not mistaken his too.”

“He’s always been so talented,” said Sorey. “He used to be amazing at preparing remedies. And frozen treats.”

“He still is,” said Muse. There was a pause as Mikleo rustled under the covers, tucking his knees closer to his body.

“Take care, Sorey,” said Muse. “Remember. Let this be the beginning.”

“Right.”

Mikleo listened as the door closed behind Muse. Within moments, he felt the weight of Sorey on his bed. He instantly panicked, terrified as to what Sorey might be planning. Before he could react, his blankets rustled and shook as Sorey shimmied under them. He tucked himself behind Mikleo, lying parallel and pushing his knee behind the Seraph’s legs.

_Oh Lords, he’s in my bed._

Mikleo froze at the sudden unexpected contact. Although there was nothing sexual about the way Sorey embraced him his heart responded excitedly, thumping noisily in his chest. Sorey’s hand travelled along Mikleo’s side, earning a shuddered, embarrassed whine. He had never ceased to be ticklish, not through all his centuries of growth. He pushed his hand to wrap around Mikleo’s chest, succeeding in resting his hand on his heart. He seemed satisfied once he found Mikleo’s heartbeat, the intensity betraying his outward calm appearance. Sorey then finally brought his chin to rest on Mikleo’s neck, nuzzling against his wild silvery curls of hair.

“Thought you were afraid to touch me,” said Mikleo, his quiet voice suppressing his true nervous excitement.

“Zaveid explained everything,” said Sorey, his voice closer to Mikleo’s ear than he ever remembered. He squeezed his arm around Mikleo, bringing him the tiniest bit closer. Mikleo remained tense and motionless, a deep crimson blush blooming across his cheeks.

“Why’re you in my bed,” mumbled Mikleo, adamant to maintain his stoic facade.

“I can leave if it’s not okay.”

Mikleo paused. “Stay.”

Sorey energetically shimmied and snuggled Mikleo closer. Mikleo felt his frustrations rising to the surface of his mind, last night’s anger still yet unresolved. He pursed his lips and gritted his teeth before finally allowing his anxieties to fade into the warmth of Sorey’s embrace. It was just as it was, just as it had been for centuries. Sorey didn’t need to say a word for Mikleo to find peace. Sorey seemed to notice his tense body relaxing.

“Are you feeling better?” asked Sorey.

Mikleo sighed.

“I... I wanted to apologize for yesterday. I shouldn’t have asked you all those things.”

“I blew up at you,” Mikleo said into his pillow, almost too quiet to hear.

Sorey shifted. “I should have realized you probably faced a lot of hardship. I just... I just want to get to know you again. And I guess I rushed it.”

Mikleo reached his hand over Sorey’s.

“You do?” asked Mikleo, quiet but hopeful.

“Yeah.” He paused. “So I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“I still reacted poorly,” mumbled Mikleo.

Sorey shifted again, squeezing Mikleo a bit tighter. Mikleo allowed himself to lean closer against Sorey, melting and selfishly relaxing into his arms.

“What’d Zaveid tell you?” asked Mikleo.

“He said, uh...” Sorey paused as though he wanted be sure to phrase his next words without offending. “He said you get sad sometimes. And the best way to make you feel better is uh, physical contact. He said to put as much of my body on you as possible.”

Mikleo snorted a laugh. “Figures. And you don’t find that odd at all?”

Sorey shrugged. “Is it working?”

Mikleo hummed and stroked his thumb against the back of Sorey’s hand.

“I don’t want you to be sad anymore,” said Sorey. “I don’t want you to be alone.”

Before Mikleo could respond the sound of a shrill tea kettle pierced the air, gaining in ferocity. Sorey unravelled himself, pulling away from Mikleo. Once again he was along under the covers. Every inch Sorey had touched or where his warm breath had travelled across his neck now stung against the cool morning air, painfully aware of exactly how much comfort the smallest of motions had brought. He felt Sorey sitting against the side of the bed briefly before pushing himself up. After a few moments of silence, he heard the sounds of a loud clattering and hiss, and a surprised yelp from the human.

It didn’t take longer than a split second for Mikleo to sweep the blanket away and stand, his palms in front of him weaving a large green tinted circle of light around Sorey.  His elixir vitae faded, Sorey stood hunched clutching one hand in the other tightly.

“You’re weak,” mumbled Mikleo. “Why’re you so weak?”

“Maotelus warned me this might happen,” he said, standing and swaying.

“Why? Is this from your sleep?” asked Mikleo, dropping his hands and stepping closer.

“No, it’s from the oath,” said Sorey.

“Oath?” said Mikleo worriedly, his heart dropping in his chest.

Sorey looked up at Mikleo, smiling weakly.

“I made an oath,” said Sorey.

“No, no no no...” said Mikleo, a worried look crossing his face. “Sorey, how could you?”

Sorey staggered, his shoulders drooping slightly. Mikleo moved in front of him, gripping his upper arms, holding him upright.

“Sorey,” he pleaded. “Oaths are dangerous, you can’t-”

“You were right. I can’t protect you with a short human life.”

The blood drained from Mikleo’s face. His eyes opened wide.

“So long as you live, I live,” mumbled Sorey, his head dropping.

“Sorey, what are you saying?” said Mikleo, reaching one hand forth to gently slap Sorey’s cheek. Sorey responded by leaning lazily, smiling his relaxed face with eyes half closed.

“I’m bound to you,” he said. “I’m going to protect you, forever.”

“Oh Gods, Sorey... how could you, you idiot!” said Mikleo.

“An immortal idiot,” said Sorey, collapsing into Mikleo’s arms.

“Sorey!” yelped Mikleo. It was no use, Sorey had fallen unconscious.

“You idiot... you’re burning up,” mumbled Mikleo, lifting his friend and leaning him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “Let’s get you to your own bed.”

He fumbled to open the door, bringing Sorey out into the Elysian morning sunshine, the wet grass seeping through his socks. To his surprise, Lailah, Rose and Alisha stood just outside.

“We heard a commotion,” said Lailah, before Mikleo could react. “What’s going on?”

Mikleo laughed, adjusting Sorey slightly in his arms. “This idiot... he made an oath. He bound himself to my life.”

“So he’ll live forever?” said Rose.

“He’ll live as long as I do,” said Mikleo.

“It’s what you always wanted, isn’t it?” asked Alisha.

“I would never, ever have asked this of him,” said Mikleo. “He deserves a normal human life.”

“Sorey has never been normal, has he?” winked Rose.

“Gods,” said Mikleo. “What do I do?”

“Well,” said Lailah. “Now you have to keep yourself safe, for the _oath_ of you!”

Mikleo, Rose and Alisha groaned.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Mikleo removed the neatly folded damp towel from Sorey’s forehead. It was the morning of the third day, his fever had broke some time ago. Mikleo hoped he would awaken soon. He smoothed the hair from Sorey’s forehead, a wild mess that could never have been contained. He smiled, watching Sorey breathe a steady rhythm, his chest rolling up and down with his breaths. It had been a long time since Mikleo had gotten to watch Sorey sleep, and he was just as angelic as he had recalled. He wondered if his sleep with Maotelus was restful, as his great vessel that saved this world.

He tousled his fingers through Sorey’s hair, tracing repeated patterns and running his nails across his scalp. Finally, Sorey’s eyes slowly blinked open, as he made tiny waking sounds deep within his throat.

Mikleo drew his fingers back. “Good morning. Did you rest well?”

Sorey sat up in the bed, propping himself up with his arms. “Yeah.” He looked around, recognizing his surroundings as his old home in Elysia. “You brought me home?”

“I did,” said Mikleo.

Sorey grabbed at Mikleo’s coat urgently. Mikleo quirked his eyebrows, allowing the action. Sorey tugged at Mikleo, pulling him closer on the bed until he was kneeling awkwardly over Sorey. Sorey pressed his ear against Mikleo’s chest, once again strangely satisfied by finding the sound of Mikleo’s heartbeat. He pulled away, smiling.

“What’re you doing, Sorey...” mumbled Mikleo, somewhat confused, yet amused.

“I wanted to listen to what’s going to keep me alive,” said Sorey, beaming a smile.

Mikleo huffed a small laugh and shook his head. “Idiot.” He stood, leaving to work on something in the next room.

“You stayed with me while I slept, didn’t you?” asked Sorey.

Mikleo hummed, heading back towards Sorey’s bed, carrying a bowl.

“I’m glad,” said Sorey. “I started to get the feeling you didn’t want me around.”

“That’s my fault,” admitted Mikleo. “And it couldn’t be further from the truth. Here, you must be hungry.” He handed a bowl to Sorey, seating himself carefully on the side of his bed.

Sorey looked down at the bowl, recognizing the contents as Drago Stew.  He picked up the spoon and brought it to his mouth.

“Mmm, this is really good! Did you go all the way to Pendrago to get it?” Asked Sorey.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I made it,” said Mikleo.

“It’s so good! And it’s a hot food, I didn’t think you could do that!” said Sorey.

“It’s still water based,” he said, clutching his arm. “Besides, I learned a few new tricks while you were gone.”

“Like what?” asked Sorey excitedly between spoonfuls of stew.

Mikleo narrowed his eyes. He took a deep breath in concentration, then brought his hand forward, palm to the ceiling. A small flame flickered in his hand.

“Wow!” exclaimed Sorey. “You can control fire now too?”

“Just a bit,” said Mikleo smugly. “It takes some concentration but I can combine the artes to boil water and cook some hot foods now.”

“So you didn’t need me to make tea,” said Sorey quietly between spoonfuls.

“No, but it was still a kind gesture,” said Mikleo.

Sorey smiled slyly. “And you could already windstep, right?”

“I can,” said Mikleo. “If I concentrate, I can read the winds sometimes.”

“Is there anything you can’t do?” exclaimed Sorey excitedly.

“Well,” said Mikleo, embarrassed both at the praise and inaccuracy. “I can’t exactly do anything productive with Earth. Eumacia doesn’t quite respond to me.”

Sorey quirked an eyebrow. “But you can do something?”

Mikleo sighed. “I can- well it’s not really something.”

“What is it? Tell me!”

“I can, uh, make mud.”

Sorey snorted a laugh.

“As you can expect, Edna called me Mudleo and made great fun of me. She’s not exactly the best teacher.”

“I’m sure you could do it if you put your mind to it,” said Sorey kindly, setting the empty bowl on his nightstand. “I bet you accomplished a lot.”

Mikleo averted his eyes, once again embarrassed of the praise. He heard Sorey take a few deep breaths.

“So... um...” started Sorey. “I took this oath because I want to protect you. So Mikleo, I guess I get to ask you for real this time.”

Mikleo turned to Sorey, his apprehension palpable.Sorey held his fist in front of him, his pleading intense emerald eyes meeting Mikleo’s cautious own.

“I want to serve as your Shepherd,” said Sorey. “Be my Sublord. Make a pact with me, and I’ll serve as your vessel, and guard you forever.”

Mikleo gently closed his eyes, his heart caught in his throat. He shook his head no.

“What? But I-”

“Prime Lord,” corrected Mikleo.

A broad grin spread across Sorey’s face, his giddiness contagious to Mikleo despite his best efforts to remain stoic. Mikleo reached his fist forward, meeting Sorey’s wrist with his own.

“O ye, born of the sacred currents of peace,” Mikleo began. “Here let our pact be forged, that my unquavering incandescence may be as thy purification. Shouldst thou accept this burden, recite aloud my true name.”

“Luzrov Rulay,” said Sorey confidently.

Mikleo dissolved into a wisp, overpowered by the pact, his essence drawn within Sorey. His energies swirled and relaxed within Sorey’s vessel space, flooding him with strong waves of emotion, pulsing and vibrantly rippling through his body. It was the comfort and ease he remembered, now light-touched and blessed by Maotelus. His vessel, his best friend’s body that felt as natural as his own, the home he had been without for seven hundred and forty two years. His favorite place, accommodating and strong enough to hold his power. He had always been secretly selfish, wishing to have Sorey all to his own. And now that wish had finally come true.

“Mikleo...” whispered Sorey, his hand to his heart. For a moment their emotions resonated together, enveloping each other in their unbreakable bond of togetherness and understanding.

Despite his desire to stay within Sorey indefinitely, he drew his energies tightly and exited as gently as he could, materializing his physical form on the side of the bed. He did his best to keep his emotions from showing on his face, despite knowing that they had just run their course through each other. He leaned forward, arms outstretched. Sorey leaned forward and met him in a hug. Mikleo smoothed his hands up and down Sorey’s back, Sorey’s arms held him tightly.

“Thank you,” whispered Mikleo.

Sorey held him in silence for a moment before humming in agreement. “So what do we do now?”

Mikleo thought for a moment before responding, pulling away enough to meet Sorey’s eyes. “Really, Sorey. You can do whatever you want.”

“But what do you think I should do? You know this world better than I do.”

Mikleo let out a polite laugh. “Well,” he started. “I was hoping you would come to Ladylake with me. When you’re ready.”

“What’s in Ladylake?”

“Right now, Maotelus. He left a few days ago with Lailah. He’s going to be there for a while, for the humans that wish to meet him until he moves to the Pendrago Shrinechurch. I’m sure there are humans that would like to meet you, as well.”

Sorey nodded. “Sounds good.”

“The Academy is there too,” said Mikleo. “I’d need to finish up some business if we’re heading out to explore ruins. And we can always stay at my home there between expeditions. It’s not much, but there’s room enough for the both of us, if you’re alright with that.”

“I thought you lived here in Elysia,” said Sorey, scratching his head.

Mikleo shook his head no. “Not for a long time. I’ve made my home in Ladylake since... well, I suppose the whole time you’ve been asleep.”

“You live with humans?” asked Sorey, his eyes wide.

Mikleo chuckled. “That I do. Alisha was kind enough to prepare a home for me in the city. Her and Rose live in Ladylake too.”

Sorey grinned.

“What?” asked Mikleo.

“I’m just really proud of you.”

A blush rose across Mikleo’s cheeks. “We’ve been living in peace for a long time, Seraphs and Humans. Sometimes humans try to start wars or malevolence rises up, but we have an army of Shepherds keeping the world safe. And we’ve worked hard to find Seraphim that will support them. Our dream is a reality now.” Mikleo elbowed Sorey. “Maybe they’ll name this Era after you.”

Sorey’s eyes opened wide again. “Do you mean it? And the architecture too?”

“Maybe,” said Mikleo. “Humans and Seraphim together have been able to create extraordinary structures and buildings.”

Sorey tugged at Mikleo’s sleeve. “Can we go now?”

Mikleo chuckled. “Of course, just let me say goodbye to our family.”

“Sure, me too!” Sorey stood.

Mikleo wrinkled his nose. “You’d better change your clothes first. You stink.”

“Oh.” Sorey blushed. He started to pull his undershirt off over his head. As much as Mikleo was desperate to catch a glimpse of Sorey’s toned upper body and anything else he was willing to expose, he turned and headed for the door.

“Meet me at Gramps’ old home,” said Mikleo.

“Okay,” said Sorey.

He let the door shut behind him, the warm Elysian morning sun hitting his face. Although he wished to pump his fist into the sky and dance he kept his cheer inside, reserved and calm as ever. He politely smiled and nodded at Seraphs Myrna and Moymor across the way, heading towards the home at the top of the hill.

He moved to knock at the door, a bit startled as it swung open before his fist could make contact.

“Good morning Mikster!” boomed Zaveid. “How’d it go with old Sheps?”

He pursed his lips, hiding his smile. “We made a pact,” said Mikleo.

“That’s great to hear!” he said. “Well come on in, don’t keep a lady waiting,” he said outstretching his arm to Muse standing behind him.

“I came to say goodbye,” said Mikleo. “He’s coming with me to Ladylake. I don’t know how long we’ll be gone. But I’m sure we’ll visit,” said Mikleo.

“It’s been wonderful seeing you once a week, my son,” said Muse. “But we knew it wouldn’t last. It’s time for your lives together to begin.”

“Mom...” Mikleo stepped towards Muse’s waiting arms. They embraced in a hug.

“I will miss you, my beautiful son. I’m sure you’ll visit whenever you can.”

“We will,” promised Mikleo.

She nodded and stepped back, her kind violet eyes smiling proudly at him.

“Good morning, Zaveid, Miss Muse,” said Sorey from behind.

“Sorey,” said Muse. “Take care of my son.”

Sorey’s face became serious, his fist held firmly over his heart. “I promise, Miss Muse. I’ll keep him safe.”

Mikleo pursed his lips, blushing. He turned to Sorey.

“See ya later, kids,” said Zaveid, patting Mikleo on the back, practically shoving him out of the home. “Don’t have too much fun.”

Mikleo shot him a glare that could cut glass. Zaveid held his hands up in defense.

“Thanks! We’ll visit as much as we can!” said Sorey. Zaveid and Muse waved a final goodbye and shut the door.

Mikleo turned, Sorey by his side. He glanced back at the home they had just left. Gramps’ old home. The last time he was here with Sorey was just before they left to Camlann, before they found him in Heldalf’s clutches. Before Sorey had to leave and sleep.

“Let’s get going,” said Sorey. He nudged Mikleo, waking him from his thoughts.

“Huh? Oh, right.”

“You’re thinking about Gramps too, huh?” asked Sorey.

Mikleo walked by Sorey’s side towards the gates of Elysia. “I am. It happened so long ago, and I’ve learned so little about who he was. He was an incredible Seraph, powerful enough to have been a Great Lord,” said Mikleo. “I’ve found shrines to him and passages in ancient texts, but so much knowledge has been lost to generations. That’s why preservation and authorship has become such an important part of my work.”

“Maotelus shared a lot with me,” said Sorey. “He used to read a lot of books and ancient texts. He’s only about a thousand years older than us, he told me things I didn’t know, and the reasons we lost our history.”

“I’d love for you to share what you’ve learned with me too,” said Mikleo, stroking his chin. “Did he tell you why? And did he say anything about Gramps?”

“He did,” said Sorey. “He showed me a lot with me when I first went to sleep. He answered a lot of questions. It... was kinda a long time ago, so it’s a little fuzzy,” he admitted, scratching his head. “I’m sure we can ask him now. But he did know who Zenrus was, and even when Maotelus was young, Gramps was here in Elysia, protecting the Seraphim.”

“I knew he protected Elysia for a very long time but no one can tell me exactly how long,” said Mikleo.

“He also said he served the first known Shepherd Siegfried,” said Sorey. “He was incredibly ancient. More than we realize, with how history was lost and reset over and over.”

Mikleo hummed. “I’ve got some catching up to do with you. But don’t think you’ve beaten me. I’ve got some books I’d like you to take a look at and fill in the gaps with whatever knowledge you have,” said Mikleo.

Sorey grinned. “Sure! Do you have a lot of books at your place?”

“I sure do. And there’s more at the Academy. And now you have all the time in the world to read them all.” Mikleo said, choking emotionally on the last few words.

Sorey tugged at the closest of Mikleo’s six cape tails. He turned to Sorey, only to be met by his beaming grin. Mikleo couldn’t help but smile back. He looked forward at the path leaving Elysia, finally ready to begin his adventure with Sorey.


	4. Home

Ladylake had changed gradually but steadily over the last seven centuries. The stone walls had raised and been rebuilt with brick. The bridge was widened and organized into proper lanes. Concrete replaced the bumpy cobblestone roads. Due to the scarcity of land in Ladylake, homes and places of business were built upwards into large buildings and towers. It had always pleased Mikleo to see these buildings, crafted by Seraphim and Humans together to accommodate the growing population with human engineered running water and Seraphic lighting.

Mikleo led as they wove through the long line of caravans awaiting entry into the city. He continually glanced behind him, ensuring Sorey was close. Sorey’s mouth was open as wide as his eyes, as though he was somehow breathing in the sights and sounds. It was nice to be beside someone so curious and happy.

The crowds were dense and challenging to traverse. Commoners, merchants, clergymen, humans from all walks of life seemed to be gathered in Ladylake in hopes to catch a glimpse of the Fifth Lord. Many of the humans recognized him as the Grand Seraph Mikleo, bowing their heads in reverence as he passed.

Mikleo wondered if he should hold Sorey’s hand to help navigate quickly through the crowds. He paused for a moment to reach out his hand, his fingertips nearly touching Sorey’s, but was interrupted by the sound of a young woman shouting his name.

“Lord Mikleo!”

He drew his fingers back into a fist and pursed his lips in annoyance, glancing around for the owner of the voice. Sorey bumped into him briefly, grinning a sheepish apology for failing to pay attention to where he was walking. Mikleo returned the smile before snapping his head back up to survey the crowd.

“Lord Mikleo!”

Before he had time to react, he was embraced in a hug. Blonde orange-tipped hair surrounded him, air kissing his left, then right cheek. The woman stepped back with a large grin on her face. She wore a black camisole and dangerously short orange shorts. Mikleo said nothing, narrowing his eyes at the Earth Seraph.

“Don’t you remember me?” asked the girl.

“Radelle, was it?” said Mikleo.

“It’s good to see you! I thought I might see you in Ladylake,” she said.

“I live here,” he retorted, somewhat annoyed.

“I hear you’re always exploring,” she said, winking. “Sailing and adventuring, it must be romantic!”

“Hmph.”

“They say Ladylake is a great city to find love,” she continued, coyly shimmying her shoulders. “Maybe there’s some exploring we could do right here at home.”

Mikleo’s eyes opened wide briefly before he shrunk back an inch. This was _not_ the time for Sorey to find out about his past.

“You can stop right there,” said Mikleo. “I don’t lead that kind of life anymore.”

“A shame,” she said, curling a lock of her blonde hair between her fingers. “I never got to feel your energies.”

He cleared his throat.

“Well? Aren’t you going to introduce me to your cute friend?”

Sorey stepped forward. “Hi! I’m Sorey.” He held his hand out to shake.

Her eyebrows raised greatly, her skin color paling by a few shades.

“ _The_ Sorey? As in the Great Shepherd?”

“Yup! That’s me!” said Sorey proudly, arms akimbo.

Radelle dropped to the floor in a kneel.

“Forgive me, my Lord, for saying such crass things in front of you.”

Sorey wrinkled his brow in confusion.

“Ah,” started Mikleo. “Radelle is an Earth Seraph, born of the Earthpulse. She was raised by humans.”

“Wow!” said Sorey. “That’s so neato! I was raised by Seraphim, so I guess we’re like the opposite.”

Radelle nodded, still facing the ground.

“Is... that why I didn’t see you in Elysia with the other Seraphim?” asked Sorey, pondering, tapping his finger to his chin.

She lowered her head closer to the ground.

“You’re here to see Maotelus, aren’t you?” asked Mikleo.

“I am,” said Radelle.

“Then maybe I’ll see you in the shrine?” asked Sorey, smiling.

She shook a hurried nod towards the ground.

Mikleo cleared his throat. “Radelle was the first Seraph to perform in a human theatrical production in recorded history. It was quite controversial, as not all humans could see Seraphim just yet. She’s a living part of history, a great example of humans and Seraphim living together in harmony.”

“Lord Mikleo, you flatter me,” she mumbled.

Sorey reached his hand out to the girl. “What kind of theatre?”

“Ballet,” she said quietly.

“I wish I had been there to see it,” said Sorey. “Do you still dance?”

“I do,” she said.

“Then maybe I’ll get to see you performing someday,” said Sorey, smiling. She looked up to meet his smile, still too embarrassed to take his hand.

Mikleo narrowed his eyes, turning slowly to face the throngs of humans. He began to hear Sorey’s name whispered amongst them, likely overheard and repeated from Radelle’s outburst. It wasn’t that difficult to figure out, a Shepherd with his telltale cloak markings travelling with the Grand Seraph. A crowd had begun to form around them.

“It’s time to go,” said Mikleo. “I’ll see you around, Radelle.”

“It was good to meet you!” said Sorey. “See you later!”

Radelle stood. She bowed her head to both men before taking a step back, watching them curiously.

“Sorey. Do you remember how to use the spectral cloak?”

“Yeah, of course!” said Sorey.

“Good. And it’ll be easier to move through the crowd as one.” Mikleo dissolved into a wisp, entering Sorey. He held his energies tightly wound together, concentrating on hiding his emotion. Sorey held his fist to his heart briefly and nodded a small affirmation to himself before waving his hand, casting the cloak and vanishing from sight. Several gasps were heard from the crowd.

“We need to take the back way,” echoed Mikleo. “Go straight ahead.”

Mikleo felt Soreys affirmation as he began to weave through the crowd unnoticed. Pride began to bubble up.

“I can’t get over how powerful you feel now,” said Sorey. “How long does your cloak last?”

“Indefinitely,” echoed Mikleo.

“Can’t say I’m not impressed.”

Mikleo’s pride resonated with Sorey’s, basking in his praise. His affirmation waned as they moved, fading into confusion and aching curiosity.

“So,” started Sorey. “How do you guys know each other?”

“I told you, I saw her dance as the lead in the first Human-Seraph ballet production.”

“You guys seemed closer than that,” said Sorey. “I didn’t understand what you were saying, like you had your own language.”

“Go left here,” said Mikleo, dismissing Sorey’s comment.

“And what did she mean by feeling your energies? Is that like when I’m your vessel?”

“Make a right ahead at that corner.”

“Mikleo?”

“What?”

Sorey sighed quietly. “You... promised me no secrets.”

Mikleo stayed silent, sure his tension could be felt. Sorey’s hand once again rose to his heart.

“It’s... it’s a Seraph thing,” echoed Mikleo.

“So then it’s not like being your vessel.”

“No.”

“So what does it mean?” Sorey’s curiosity burned hot.

“Sorey... Can we just talk about this later?”

“Is it something bad?” Sorey continued prodding.

“No.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No. Make another right here.”

“I’m just trying to understand,” said Sorey. A wave of uneasiness passed through Mikleo, unsure if it was his own or Sorey’s.

“It’s something only Seraphim can feel,” echoed Mikleo.

“Oh,” said Sorey, somewhat disappointed. “But why did she say it? What does it mean?”

“Come on, Sorey, it’s embarrassing,” said Mikleo. “Can we please just talk about it later?”

“I’m not trying to embarass you,” said Sorey kindly. “I’ve just got to know.”

Mikleo cursed himself internally, not wanting to disappoint Sorey by avoiding answering again. He took a moment to gather his words, trying to craft a clinical way to organize the information.

“Fine. When a Seraphim... reaches climax, they expel their excess mana,” echoed Mikleo. “They can’t sense it themselves, but their partner may feel their element and sometimes see visions, depending on their level of mastery over their element.”

“That sounds totally cool! But only Seraphim can feel it?”

“Yes.” Mikleo paused. “Do you understand?”

“Not really,” said Sorey sheepishly, scratching his head. “What do you mean by reaches climax?”

“Are you serious, Sorey?”

“Sorry! I don’t know!”

“Well. I suppose I was innocent once too,” echoed Mikleo.

“Are you going to tell me?”

Mikleo’s sigh echoed. “Sexually, Sorey.” Surely Sorey remembered _something_ from the anatomy books they had scoured in their youth.

“Oh. Oh!”

“Now do you understand?”

“So...” started Sorey. “If you’re that close with Radelle, I don’t mind if she hangs out with us.”

“We’re not close.”

“She’s not your girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Your... wife?” Guessed Sorey.

“Most _certainly_ not.”

“But you and her...”

“We spent one night together. That’s all.”

“Were you guys friends for a long time?”

“No. We just met that one night.”

“But...” Sorey’s frustration in understanding began to resonate discomfort.

“This is humiliating,” echoed Mikleo, pulling his essence out of Sorey. The spectral cloak around them popped. He reformed in front of Sorey, his arms folded, walking forward and leading the way.

“I still don’t understand,” said Sorey, jogging a few steps to catch up.

“I don’t expect you to understand my life's’ choices,” said Mikleo.

“I want to,” said Sorey.

Mikleo paused walking for a moment. He sighed deeply, relaxing his tense shoulders. Sorey wasn’t trying to humiliate him at all. He was just trying to re-learn who his best friend was.

“Was she the only one?” asked Sorey.

“No,” said Mikleo as gently as possible, turning the corner.

“Did that uh... contribute to your... um... malevolence?”

Mikleo shook his head, again relying on his patience.

“Quite the opposite, in fact. In my youth I was helpless against loneliness. Without companionship it would grow into a gnawing void, inviting malevolence. Nowadays it’s under control, I haven’t been with anyone for a few hundred years.”

Sorey scratched at the back of his neck nervously. “But didn’t that affect your purity?”

Mikleo shook his head no. “It’s about time you learned that purity and innocence are two separate things.”

“They are?”

“Indeed they are,” said Mikleo, reaching the back of the Ladylake Shrine. He placed his hands on the wall, revealing a disguised door. He turned the small knob to let Sorey in. “We’re here.”

Sorey nodded firmly and entered the shrine. They had hardly made it through the door before Lailah, Rose and Alisha met them.

“Sorey!” exclaimed Lailah, hands clasped.

“Hey guys,” said Sorey, scratching the back of his head.

“About time you guys got here!” said Rose. “Tell Lailah it’s not unethical to set up a food stand outside.”

“We’ve been over this,” said Alisha. “You should stay here with Lailah and I to remain a united front in our support for Maotelus.”

“Don’t you have enough money, Rose?” asked Mikleo, offering her a gentle smile.

“Yeah, yeah, I didn’t get that way by passing up opportunities!” Rose grinned her most cat-like grin, arms akimbo.

“How is Maotelus?” asked Mikleo.

“We arrived yesterday from Elysia,” said Lailah. “He spent most of the day speaking with the clergy and Shepherds in town. More and more people have come to visit, and as you can see, there’s a tremendous line.” She moved her hand out towards the entrance of the shrine, the line more like a crowd of humans clear out the door leading up to Maotelus, sitting on the altar, speaking with a human kneeling before him.

Sorey perked up, glancing at Mikleo as though to ask for permission. Mikleo closed his eyes and nodded slowly. Sorey headed towards the altar. He watched as Sorey greeted the human, now standing to shake his hand before kneeling once again before him in reverence. The human seemed to thank Sorey and Maotelus before stepping back. Sorey took a seat by Maotelus at the altar, the two nodding at each other kindly in agreement. Lailah soon followed, heading towards the altar and standing before the crowds.

“Everyone, may I have your attention please!” Lailah said in her most authorative, kind voice. “The Great Shepherd Sorey has arrived!”

There was a murmuring through the crowd before the rest of the humans began to kneel.

“Um, hi everyone,” started Sorey. “I’ll be staying here in Ladylake for a while. Thank you all for your kindness.”

Sorey’s words to the crowd continued, slowly becoming a blur to Mikleo. He watched Sorey with love in his eyes, proud of the man, the _icon_ he had become. Mikleo snapped back to reality when he felt a tug against his cloak. He turned sharply to see Rose giving him a stern look, seeing Lailah and Alisha bowing behind him. He snapped back towards the crowd, bowing with the rest of the Seraphim. Lailah led as Rose and Alisha sat at a nearby table, one Mikleo had spent many afternoons throughout the years drinking tea and eating baked goods at with his closest friends. Mikleo sat at the table and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

“What happened there, Mik? Ya kinda zoned out for a minute,” Rose said.

Mikleo sighed. “I love him, Rose. I love that human.”

“So what’s wrong?”

Mikleo rubbed his forehead, bumping against his circlet. “The more he finds out about me, the more he hates me.”

He felt a sharp pain, recognizing that Rose had flicked her fingers against his neck. He shot up, alarmed.

“More like, you hate that he’s finding out about your past.”

He looked at her with narrowed, prodding eyes.

“Mikleo,” said Lailah. “Sorey was always very understanding with you. There is no doubt that he will listen to everything you have to say.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to share,” said Mikleo, leaning back and staring at the ceiling again.

Rose flicked his neck again. He wrinkled his nose, turning to face her.

“You used to be comfortable with who you were,” said Rose. “What changed?”

Mikleo paused before responding. “I forgot how innocent he was. I forgot he was just a boy. Now every time he finds out something I get scared. I lash out.”

“You must be kind to Sorey,” said Lailah. “He’s shown you nothing but love.”

Mikleo chuckled to himself. “Love. Right.”

Rose flicked the back of his neck again. He swatted at her hand, unsuccessful in catching her in the act.

“Quit that. You're making me miss Edna.”

Rose leaned back in her chair.

“I can’t be here right now,” Mikleo mumbled. He moved to stand, surprised to feel a strong hand gripping his forearm and pulling him back down. His eyes met Alisha’s, her Giant’s Strength holding him firmly in place.

“Stay here. We must be remain a united front to show our support for Sorey and Maotelus.”

Mikleo turned to watch Sorey. He was listening to a human tell a story, the human using large arm motions. Sorey laughed with the human, his eyes beaming and smile shining. Mikleo relaxed in the seat, holding his eyes closed.

“There are rumors on the wind, Mikleo,” said Rose. “They know he’s your vessel.”

Mikleo hummed. “I ran into an old friend on the way here. We were drawing a crowd. Besides,” he said, turning to face Rose. “Ladylake will know eventually. He’s going to live here, with me.”

Lailah clapped excitedly. “How wonderful for us!”

“Mikleo, please be careful,” said Alisha. “Humans do enjoy spreading vicious rumors.”

“Nothing I’m not used to hearing,” said Mikleo, leaning back in his chair.

“Perhaps so,” said Alisha, “But what of Sorey?”

“He’s had a complicated history with humans,” reminded Mikleo. “When he was the only Shepherd, they believed he was a monster. He still made his great sacrifice, knowing they didn’t understand. I wouldn’t worry about him.”

Rose reached across the table to hold Alisha’s hand. Alisha slipped her hand in Rose’s.

“You were there when he was scorned,” said Rose. “You both were heroes in the face of adversity.”

Alisha smiled sadly. “I wish I could remember it.”

Mikleo glanced down at their hands held, feeling a pang of jealousy. He recalled the moment before Radelle interrupted them. He pursed his lips. Sorey used to reach for his hand all the time, surely he would get another chance to do something as juvenile as hold hands again. Gods. Just that simple action would bring him so much joy.

“Here,” said Lailah, interrupting his thoughts. “It will help to relax you.”

He looked down to see she had slid him cup of tea.

“Thanks,” said Mikleo.

“So tell us what happened in Elysia,” asked Rose, leaning forward and grinning. “You guys made a pact?”  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
“Quit bouncing your leg,” said Rose.

“I can’t,” said Mikleo. “I’m too anxious.”

“Why don’t you check up on him?” offered Lailah.

“You don’t think it’d be rude of me to interrupt?” asked Mikleo.

“It has been a few hours,” said Rose. “He is human. Maybe he’s hungry.”

“Right,” said Mikleo, glancing over. Sorey was holding a man’s hands, nodding. The man bowed to him, then to Maotelus. “It looks like he’s just finishing up. I’ll be right back.”

He stood, scanning the crowd. The crowd seemed to be too focused on Sorey and Maotelus at the moment to notice Mikleo as he moved quietly behind the human Sorey was speaking with. The man finally thanked him and left, leaving Mikleo face to face with Sorey, sitting beside Maotelus on the altar. They were quite an odd pairing; Sorey, the kind hearted, gentle Shepherd sitting relaxed on the concrete slab with his hand resting on one leg in front of him and the other spread to the side, next to Maotelus, regal in his childlike appearance, bouncing his legs against the altar like an energetic child.

Mikleo made eye contact with Sorey momentarily before he panicked. He dropped to one knee, lowering his head. His six-tailed cloak spread on the floor behind him, his long ponytail cascading over one shoulder.

“My Lords,” he said. “Is there anything I may do for you?”

Sorey snorted a tiny laugh. Mikleo maintained his composure. Sorey swallowed, understanding his seriousness. Mikleo kept his head lowered, hearing whispers between Sorey and Maotelus.

“Grand Seraph,” said Maotelus, “There is something you may offer that would please us.”

“What is it, my Lord?” asked Mikleo.

“Ice cream,” said Sorey.

Mikleo wrinkled his nose and furrowed his brow. He shook his head before peering up, seeing Sorey’s grinning face looking down at him.

“Of... of course,” said Mikleo. “Any particular flavor?”

“I was thinking,” said Maotelus, a finger on his chin. “We have a lot of offerings. Why not use something from there?”

“Yes, my Lord, right away,” said Mikleo, standing.

“Mikleo...” said Sorey, his voice trailing. Mikleo once again made eye contact with Sorey. He felt a strong emotional pull, as though Sorey was trying to tell him something.

“I’m right here,” said Mikleo.

Sorey nodded. “Thanks.”

Mikleo bowed towards Sorey, then Maotelus before heading to the great pile of offerings behind the altar. He easily found jars of milk, cream and a few fresh oranges in the growing pile, loading his arms with ingredients before heading towards the kitchen in the back where he knew Lailah had the equipment he needed. He set to work on his craft, within minutes he had whipped up a batch of orange sherbet.

He returned from the back with two cups of the concoction, adorned with spoons and whipped cream. He waited patiently for the next human to finish up their conversation before slipping in again.

“My Lords,” he said, kneeling again, holding out his offerings. “I pray that it pleases you.”

Sorey took no time in grasping the cup of ice cream from his hands, shoving the first spoonful in his mouth.

“Mikleo!” exclaimed Sorey. “This is really good!”

“He’s only been raving about your ice cream for seven hundred years,” said Maotelus, taking a bite. “It is really, really good though.”

“I might have had a few dreams about it,” said Sorey sheepishly, too engrossed in his ice cream to look up.

“Don’t eat it too fast now,” said Mikleo, standing and bowing. He turned to leave.

“Wait,” said Sorey. “Aren’t you going to eat with us?”  


Mikleo shook his head no. “I’m not going to indulge myself in offerings meant for the Lords.” said Mikleo.

“Oh... okay,” conceded Sorey.

Mikleo began walking away.

“...when the sun begins to set,” he heard Maotelus say quietly.

“...want to spend some time with him,” said Sorey, Mikleo pretending as though he wasn’t listening intently as he walked away. “...still have a lot of questions.”

Mikleo returned to his chair sitting and leaning back, staring at the ceiling.

_Any questions you have, Sorey. I’ll do my best to fill you in. I will be kind, even if it hurts me._

“So?” asked Rose.

Mikleo sighed noisily. “I love that human.”

Rose elbowed Mikleo. “Then you’ll stop bouncing your leg?” she asked.

“We’ll see.”  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
“Thank you all for coming,” said Lailah, doing her best to carry her voice across the room. “The shrine will reopen for visitors tomorrow morning.”

Sorey bounced to Mikleo, holding out his fist.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Mikleo pressed his wrist against Sorey’s. “Ready to see where you’ll be living?”

“Ready!”

“Are you hungry?” asked Mikleo, leading the way out the back door of the shrine.

“Not especially,” said Sorey, catching up and walking side by side with Mikleo. “We kinda ate a few more of the offerings.”

Mikleo hummed. “We’ll eat later, then.” He pointed to the pathway leading them towards the tower. “So how was it?”

Sorey wrinkled his nose. “Fine. But it was a little weird. A lot of people asked if you and I were lovers.”

“And you told them we aren’t?” asked Mikleo. The words drove through his heart like a dagger.

“Well, yeah,” said Sorey.

“Humans are so nosy, spreading rumors.”

“Mikleo, they were just concerned,” said Sorey. “They said you were, uh, dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” said Mikleo, chuckling. “I’m probably the most powerful Water Seraph in the world, second to Amenoch. I’ve been through a few wars, slain dragons and Lords of Calamity. Dangerous doesn’t begin to describe me.”

“Not like that,” said Sorey quietly. “They said to be careful, and that you would break my heart.”

Mikleo sighed in disgust. “That’s the thanks I get for seven hundred years of work.”

“Don’t worry,” said Sorey. “I told them you were always good to me.”

“Great.”

There was a pause.

“Were you like that in the past?” asked Sorey.

“Like what?” mumbled Mikleo.

“Did you really break a lot of hearts?”

Mikleo sighed in resignation. “I suppose I did.”

“Why?”

“It’s complicated,” said Mikleo. “You can’t force love. If they’re not ...right, no sense in wasting their time.”

“That makes sense,” said Sorey. “And in seven hundred years, no one was right?”

“Regrettably, no.”

“Did you ever love anyone?”

“I have.” Mikleo said reluctantly. He paused. “I’ve had my heart broken as well.”

Mikleo felt a sense of surprise as Sorey’s gloved hand slipped around his. His heart rate quickened.

“I really, really wish I could have been there for you.”

Mikleo chuckled. “You were.” He squeezed Sorey’s hand. “I came to you all the time to talk. It always helped. You’ve always been there my whole life.”

Sorey squeezed his hand back before slipping it away.

“I’ll fight anyone who breaks your heart,” said Sorey.

“Likewise.” Mikleo smiled to himself. “We’re here.” He opened the wooden door to the tower, leading them into the cafe on the first floor. “After you.”

Sorey entered with wide eyes, taking in the sights.

“You can order anything you want here,” said Mikleo. “It’s all taken care of by the Royal Family.”

“Wow!” said Sorey. “Is the food good?”

“It’s quite excellent,” said Mikleo. “Alisha outdid herself, creating a place for us to live so long ago. Her and Rose live in the tower as well. This way.” He pointed up the staircase.

“Which floor do you live on?” Asked Sorey, climbing the winding stone stairs.

“The sixth floor, at the top,” said Mikleo. “Alisha and Rose live on the fifth floor, just below us.”

“This is so cool!” said Sorey, bouncing ahead, taking two steps at a time. Mikleo smiled to himself, trying his best to catch up. He finally did, watching Sorey look curiously at the doorknob with no keyhole.

“It’s sealed,” said Mikleo quietly. “You should be able to get in. Go on.”

Sorey placed his hand on the doorknob, watching as a small flash of white and blue light shone. The knob turned easily, and Sorey was free to step inside.

“Wow,” said Sorey. “This place is huge!”

“It’s really nothing extravagant,” said Mikleo sheepishly. “It’s not much more than one room with a kitchen and washroom.”

“But it’s so much bigger than what we had in Elysia!” said Sorey. He flopped backwards on the bed.

“We have room for a second bed,” said Mikleo quietly, shutting the door behind him.

“This one’s comfy, and huge!” said Sorey. He sat up, with more seriousness in his eyes. “I don't mind sharing. We always did when we were young.”

Mikleo sat by him on the bed. “Then I suppose it’s our bed now.” He had hoped that Sorey wouldn’t mind sharing a bed, but then again, he had also hoped for more.

Sorey grinned in response, bouncing up and heading towards Mikleo’s workstation. His wooden desk sat with neatly organized stacks of paper, a row of quilled pens and pencils. The entire collection of Celestial Records lined the shelf, adorned by nearby bookshelves filled with leather bound books. The collection was vast compared to what he had at his home in Elysia. Sorey pulled out a stool from under the desk, having a seat.

“This is amazing,” said Sorey. “Is this where you wrote most of your books?”

Mikleo pulled a spare stool from beside the desk next to Sorey, taking a seat by him. “It is.”

“I bet you spent a lot of time here, writing and organizing.”

Mikleo smiled, leaning against Sorey. Sorey leaned back towards him.

“What’s that?” asked Sorey, pointing to a sparkling white vial tucked under the shelf.

“That’s a vial of snow from the icy lands up North. It’s to remind me of the changing seasons. That the world is still changing,” said Mikleo. “I have a lot more vials in Elysia, if you recall.”

“Yeah, but those were all water.”

“Water’s pretty important to me,” reminded Mikleo, elbowing Sorey gently.

“What’s that one?” asked Sorey. “It looks like feathers.”

“It is,” said Mikleo. “Soft down feathers from Elysialarks. To never forget home.”

“What’s this one?” asked Sorey. He picked up the vial, sparkling iridescent scales radiating prismatic colors. “It’s really beautiful.”

Mikleo clutched his arm, leaning away. “That’s... those are drake scales.”

“It must have been a beautiful drake,” said Sorey, somewhat mesmerized by the glittering scales. “Why would you keep this, though?”

Mikleo’s heart clenched in his chest. “They’re... it’s to remind myself to remain vigilant against malevolence. Even a Grand Seraph can fall.”

Sorey’s eyes became wide. “Then these...”

Mikleo looked away.

“I missed so much of your life,” said Sorey, quietly setting the vial back under the shelf where he found it.

“You had to,” said Mikleo. He reached forward, sliding out a thinner book from between the first Celestial Record and Volume Two. The leather bound book was embossed with gold lettering that read _End of the Age of Chaos: The Sleeping Shepherd._ He set the book at the center of the desk.

“This is where I’d recommend starting, if you’re looking to catch up.”

Sorey flipped the book open, pleased to see the foreword.

“Dedicated to the Great Shepherd Sorey,” he read aloud. “For his great sacrifice in bringing our worlds together. May his actions inspire bravery for generations to come. Mikleo, did you write this?”

Mikleo hummed. “I did my best to document our adventure. We were just kids when everything happened.”

“Yeah.”

Mikleo leaned his head against Sorey, watching as he began to read the first couple pages. They had plenty of time now. This was all he wanted for so long. To be close to Sorey, sharing in his warmth, near enough to feel him breathe. His heart ached for more, but his mind reminded him to be patient. Sorey was still innocent, after all. To push for anything beyond what Sorey was comfortable with would be selfish. Mikleo pulled away, slowly standing.

“I’m going to draw a bath,” said Mikleo. “I’ll leave the door open if you want to chat.”

“Okay,” said Sorey. He had quickly become engrossed in the book.

Mikleo moved to a nearby dresser, gathering a change of clothes before heading to the washroom. He turned the faucets of the large tub, smiling at the odd choice. He could fill the tub instantly with water of his own making, but preferred to feel the rush of mana filling the pipes, tracing the origin back to the aqueducts, listening to the peaceful sound of running water. He dropped a few capfuls of oils and salts into the tub, preparing for a relaxing soak. He derobed while the tub filled, folding his worn clothes neatly before placing them into a hamper. He looked at himself in the mirror.

There staring back at him was a man, his skin soft and pale, youthful yet weathered. His broad upper shoulders seemed tired now, his eyes aching and dull. He furrowed his brow at the reflection before pulling his hair tie out, letting ribbons of silvery blue curls cascade over his shoulders. He brushed through his hair before stepping into the now full tub, turning the faucets shut. He leaned back against the edge, sinking slowly and dipping his head underwater, soaking his hair. His eyes remained closed as he raised his head, just enough to allow the surface of the water to dance against his cheeks.

So much had happened today. Sorey awoke from his oath induced sleep, formed a pact with Mikleo and...

He grimaced. Sorey had begun to learn about his past. At least he seemed to be taking it in stride, doing his best to understand despite his innocence about such things. They were leaps and bounds beyond when Sorey was afraid to touch him only a few days ago. _Gods_ he wanted Sorey to touch him more.

He took a deep breath, sinking just a little deeper, letting the water rise to just above his lips and below his nose. The gentle mana vibrated in the warm bath, flowing through him freely as though he was part of the water itself. His arms and legs relaxed, feeling the tension leave as he stretched his long, aching muscles. He was at peace in his element, meditative and calm.

There was a ripple in the water, an unexpected foreign intrusion. The surface of the water shook, tickling against Mikleo’s face. His eyes shot open as he sat up in the bath to see a completely naked Sorey standing in front of him, lowering himself into the bath. Mikleo bent his knees close to his body, hiding his own nudity as much as he could.

“Sorey! What on earth are you doing?” He wrapped his arms around his knees.

Sorey leaned back into the bath, relaxing. “You told me you were drawing a bath, and you’d leave the door open.”

“I meant if you wanted to chat, not if you wanted to- Gods, Sorey! I’m naked! _You're_ naked!” He pulled his knees tightly towards his body.

“I don’t understand?” said Sorey, scratching his head. “We’ve always shared a bath. And I’ve seen you naked tons of times.” His cheerful face dropped a touch. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No, no,... it’s fine.” Mikleo relaxed his arms into the water, his knees lowering. “I just didn’t expect you, that’s all.”

“But you invited me,” said Sorey. “This bath is plenty big for both of us.”

“It is,” said Mikleo. He wrinkled his nose. “You’re really okay with being naked with me?”

“Of course,” said Sorey, closing his eyes. “We share a body too, remember? I'm your vessel.”

“That’s different,” mumbled Mikleo.

“Not really,” said Sorey.

“Yes really,” said Mikleo. “I’m older now. Things changed.”

“I don’t see how,” said Sorey. “Other than you got bigger and taller.”

Mikleo hummed, relaxing his legs. Sorey’s ankles brushed against his, causing Mikleo’s heart to race just a touch faster. He glanced over at Sorey, who was sinking against the side of the tub in relaxation. The warm humidity in the air vibrated with delicate mana, coaxing him to relax. It didn’t take Mikleo long to reach a near meditative state once again, closing his eyes and sinking deeper in the water.

“Hey,” said Sorey.

“Mmm?”

“Will you tell me why you stopped?”

“Why I stopped what?”

Sorey scratched his head. “You said you stopped looking for companionship a couple hundred years ago. Did something happen?”

Mikleo pursed his lips. “Yes.”

“Will you tell me about it?”

“I suppose you have me cornered,” said Mikleo, gently smiling. “You can guess the story doesn’t have the happiest of endings. Do you still want me to tell it?”

“If you’re okay with that,” said Sorey. “I don’t want to upset you.”

Mikleo sat up slowly, blinking his eyes open. He glanced at Sorey, leaning against the side of the tub, his eyes still closed in relaxation.

“He was a Shepherd, like you,” started Mikleo. “Heir to the Rolance Empire. He gave up a life of royalty for a promise of adventure and purification.”

“What was his name?”

“Oscar. Oscar Dragonia. I met him when he was thirteen at the Pendrago School of Combat. He was an incredible swordsman, even at that age. I challenged him in combat and lost.”

“Wow,” said Sorey. “He must have been something.”

“He was. He never stopped impressing me with his prowess.” Mikleo leaned back and closed his eyes again. “For him, it was love at first sight. He made it his mission to serve as my Shepherd. That didn’t come for years, of course.”

“Did you have a lot of Shepherds?” asked Sorey.

Mikleo chuckled to himself. “Gods yes. I was the very definition of trouble back then. Many seeked to tame the Grand Seraph desperate for the challenge and a chance to enact my Armatus,” He smirked. “Few could tolerate my misbehaving for more than a couple months at a time.”

“Dare I ask what kind of misbehaving?”

“Refusing to use them as a vessel. Disagreeing with their course of action. But more often than not, disappearing.”

“For what purpose?” asked Sorey.

“Adventure. Conquest. Philandering.” Mikleo wrinkled his nose.  


“I just don’t see it,” said Sorey, leaning forward and soaking his hair in the bathwater. “You were always loyal and dependable with me.”

“No one else deserved it.” He nudged Sorey’s ankle with his own. “No Shepherd was ever more pure than you.”

Sorey hummed in his throat. “So what happened with Oscar?”

Mikleo poured a soapy substance in his hand from a nearby bottle, working it through his hair. He handed the bottle to Sorey and watched him do the same. “I was warned he had anger issues. When he transferred to Shepherd Academy, they began to surface. I was always patient but stern with him. He respected me, and worked hard to gain my countenance.”

“And eventually he did?”

“He did.” Mikleo leaned back to rinse the soap from his hair, dipping his curls in the bathwater. “We began adventuring together, making many great discoveries quickly. After months of relentless begging, I finally gave in to his charm.” Mikleo sighed. “He was a great lover, kind, gentle and selfless.”

“But did you love him?” asked Sorey.

“I did,” Mikleo wistfully replied. “But never more than he loved me.” Mikleo squeezed a creamy substance from another bottle into his hand, working it into his hair. He handed the bottle to Sorey, who once again followed the same action.

“Then what happened?”

“His anger and jealousy grew,” said Mikleo, working his fingers through the tangles in his hair. “We retreated to a small town, where unbeknownst to me he began spreading lies. He became a hero, and I his hidden pariah. He slid deeper into malevolence, and I was far too blind to realize. He became more and more manipulative. My confidence was shaken. All tenderness left his touch.” Mikleo closed his eyes and pursed his lips.

“But you got out, right?”

“I did.” Mikleo leaned back to rinse his hair, Sorey leaned forward to do the same. “He lied to me. About me. He tried to starve me, Sorey. He said it was a waste that Seraphim eat.”

Sorey leaned forward and offered his hand. Mikleo gripped it without hesitation.

“I left. He tried to beg forgiveness but I was nowhere near interested. That’s when I realized...” He squeezed Sorey’s hand.

“What did you realize?”

_How much I loved you, Sorey. How much no one else would ever fill the hole in my heart that you left._

Mikleo pulled his hand back. “How much I didn’t need companions to be true to myself. I swore off lovers indefinitely then.” Mikleo turned briefly to pull the plug on the drain. He turned back to face Sorey, surprised to see how far forward he was leaning, resting his hands on his knees.

“I'm sorry I made you talk about something that hurt you.”

Mikleo laughed. “If I didn't, there wouldn't be much to talk about. It’s honestly good to hear you respond, for once. I’ll have you know I’ve told you all of this before.”

“Sorry,” said Sorey, grinning sheepishly. “I must have been taking a nap.”

Mikleo snorted a laugh. “Stand with me. We’re going to rinse off in the shower.”

“Shower?” asked Sorey. They both stood, exchanging glances at each other’s upper bodies before a blush crept across Mikleo’s face. He turned, facing the faucets, praying his body would behave and not react to the glistening beads of water running down Sorey’s broad, tanned chest.

 _Please don’t notice I was staring. Gods_.

He turned the faucets and an additional knob, routing water to the oversized shower head above him. He had most certainly had the bath and shower designed for two. It was his one indulgence, his request under the guise of his necessity as a Water Seraph to be close to his element. Water began to flow from the shower head in a wide pattern.

“This is so cool!” said Sorey, laughing .

“It’s a good thing you decided to bathe after all,” said Mikleo, turning. “You were beginning to smell.” He lathered up his body with a bar of soap, passing it to Sorey. He turned away to give Sorey a semblance of privacy, knowing that he couldn’t handle the idea of Sorey covered in suds, white bubbles slowly travelling down his firm, tanned body. And now he was thinking about it anyway.

“Was not,” said Sorey.

Mikleo turned his focus to the flow of water to keep his mind off Sorey’s body. Naked and wet, next to him. He fought the urge to peek, to stare, to turn around and grab him, _kiss_ him, _Gods_ this wasn’t working...

He took a deep breath, tracing the streams of water through the pipes and down each floor. He felt for the delicate mana in each stream, how they wove together, flowed together, the strength of each flow and branches of the piping, travelling deep underground and finally reaching the aqueduct.

Sorey’s gentle hand on his upper back startled him from his meditation. He turned, smiling at Sorey, his face a kind combination of smiling curiosity and concern.

“Sorry, I got lost in how fascinating running water is,” said Mikleo. “Are you ready?”

“Ready,” said Sorey.

Mikleo shut the faucets off. He ran his fingers through his own hair, wicking away the moisture. Water pulled down his body, leaving him completely dry before stepping out of the tub.

“No fair,” said Sorey.

Mikleo pulled his underpants on before rummaging through a cabinet. He pulled out a fluffy white towel, tossing it to Sorey. Sorey caught it, wrapping it around his midsection. By the time he caught it, Mikleo had already wicked all the moisture from Sorey’s body and let it run down the drain. He pulled his pants on, then worked on buttoning up his undershirt. Sorey stepped out of the tub.

“I don’t have any clothes,” said Sorey. “Should I just wear my dirty ones, or do you have something I could borrow?”

“Go check the bottom three drawers of the dresser,” said Mikleo.

Sorey nodded firmly, exiting the bathroom. He pulled open the top of the three drawers Mikleo had mentioned, to find it was packed full of socks and underwear of different designs, fabrics and styles. He chose a pair of red boxer brief underpants, pulling them over his naked legs. He modeled for himself, looking down, admiring the way the design flattered his thighs. He peeked in the second drawer, finding it was full of folded shirts, both collared and undershirts of varying shades of blues, blacks and reds. He picked a black undershirt, not unsimilar to what he had been wearing. The material was soft and flattering. He grabbed one of the blue collared shirts, finding it had a different style of collar than what he was used to. It was likely fashion not only changed throughout the years, but that human fashion was different from the style he was familiar with from Elysia. He threw the shirt on over his shoulders before rummaging through the third drawer, this one full of neatly folded black and brown pants with a few belts and gloves tucked to the side.

He heard a thumping sound. Turning around, he spotted Mikleo tapping his staff against the kitchen floor. He seemed to be listening, pleased when he heard a response in the forms of two thumps.

“Rose and Alisha are meting us for dinner downstairs,” he said. “You look good. Everything fit right?”

“Mikleo, you got all these clothes for me?”

Mikleo smiled. “I did.”

“When?”

Mikleo blushed, looking away. “I’ve been collecting them for years. There’s probably some really old styles in there. We can go to the clothier if you want something el-”

He was interrupted by Sorey slamming into him for a hug.

“That was so thoughtful of you, thank you,” said Sorey, squeezing him tightly.

“It’s really nothing,” said Mikleo, patting Sorey on the back. “There’s some shoes in the coat closet too.”

Sorey squeezed him once more before letting go, heading to the small coat closet beside the door.

“Do you want your Shepherd’s Cloak before we go?”

“I was actually thinking,” said Sorey, trying on a new pair of brown boots. “I would leave it off. I’d like to just be Sorey tonight and not the great this or gentle that.”

“Sick of the flourish already?”

“Can we just go?”

“Of course,” said Mikleo, opening the door. “After you.”

Mikleo followed Sorey out of their apartment, pulling his hair up into a ponytail. Within moments they were seated at a booth, side by side across from Alisha and Rose.

“I can just order anything off this menu?” asked Sorey.

“Sometimes they have stuff that’s not on it too,” said Rose. “Just ask. They’re really good about making you whatever you want.”

“This is so cool,” said Sorey, reading through the options. “What are you gonna get?”

“Don’t let me influence you,” said Mikleo. “Everything is good here.”

“Grand Seraph, glad to see you’ve returned. Great to see you, Seraphs Rose and Alisha.”

Mikleo looked up to see a kind waitress smiling at him. “Thank you, miss...” he glanced at her nametag. “...Cacao.”

She smiled, leaning in. “Is that the Great Shepherd with you?”

“It is. Spare him the flourish. Tonight he’s just Sorey.”

She leaned back, hand over her heart. “Thank you for joining us, Shepherd Sorey.”

“Thank you!” Sorey beamed a smile. She seemed to melt a touch at his brilliance. Mikleo narrowed his eyes at Cacao, watching her carefully.

“Are you all ready to order?” she asked.

“Sorey?” asked Mikleo, nudging him.

  
“You all go first,” said Sorey. “I’m still deciding.”

“The usual,” said Mikleo, handing her his menu.

“And for you, Princess?” she asked.

“The grilled chicken, please,” said Alisha.

“And you?”

“Roast quillboar,” said Rose.

“And you, sir?”

“Can I get breakfast?” asked Sorey.

“I don’t see why not,” said the woman.

“I’ll take the adventurer’s breakfast,” said Sorey.

“Coming right up!” She winked. Mikleo shot another intense stare at her as though to say he was watching. She smiled and dismissively turned around, leaving with their menus and orders.

“So, started Alisha.” “It was an honor to have you join us today, Sorey.”

“It’s really no big deal.”

“Maotelus was alone yesterday,” said Rose. “He’s really good at speaking to people, but yesterday you could tell he was getting overwhelmed.”

“It’s just been a long time since he’s been around a crowd,” said Sorey. “When he was young, resonance was plentiful. Then something happened, taking it away from nearly everyone.”

“Was it a great historical event of his time?” asked Alisha.

“Oh boy, the nerds are nerding out,” said Rose. “Do you know about this?”

“You should care about our world's’ history,” said Mikleo. “Go on, Sorey.”

Sorey proceeded to tell an abridged version of the story of Artorius, Velvet and Innominat from what Maotelus had shared with him. The story had been partially deciphered in the past, but details on Innominat had been kept vague. Mikleo had assumed that it was to keep prayer from reaching him so that he remained weak and powerless.

Soon the food arrived. Mikleo was pleased to receive Drago Stew, but balked seeing Sorey receive several plates of pancakes, sausage, bacon and eggs.

“Gimme a bite of your stew,” said Sorey. “I want to see how it compares to yours.”

“Trade you for some sausage,” said Mikleo. He prepared a spoonful for Sorey, as Sorey sliced off a bite for him. They exchanged cutlery, nibbling off each others silverware.

“Yours is better,” said Sorey.

“I disagree, I like theirs more.”

“Well. It seems like you two are getting along just fine,” said Alisha.

Sorey beamed at Alisha. “I’ll say! This tower is great. I’m gonna stay with Mikleo. We took a shower together earlier. I’ve never used a shower before!”

“Sorey... seriously,” said Mikleo, his face lighting up beet red.

“What?” asked Sorey, his mouth full of pancakes. “We always bathed together.”

“Not everyone does that kind of thing with their friends, Sorey,” said Rose. “That’s kinda more the type of thing that people who are a bit... closer do.”

“But me and Mikleo _are_ close. I’m his vessel.”

Mikleo looked at Rose, helpless, smiling sheepishly.

“I’m bound to Mikleo for the rest of eternity,” said Sorey between bites. “I want to be as close to him as possible.”

“That’s wonderful,” said Alisha encouragingly, watching as Mikleo’s face continued to redden.

“I want to know everything about him,” said Sorey. “He’s telling me all about his past.”

Mikleo swallowed nervously. “Sorey...”

“He’s told me about his past Shepherds. He was telling me about Oscar earlier.”

“You mean the hellion?” asked Rose.

Mikleo dropped his spoon.

“Oh come on, like you didn’t know,” said Rose. “He was a hellion since he was in the Academy. At least that’s what Lailah said.”

“Rose,” warned Alisha.

“What? I’m just saying. And he left us with the mess when they finally broke up.”

“What mess?” asked Sorey.

“When you guys broke up and he outwardly hellionized,” said Rose. “Alisha and I were scared to leave the apartment for weeks. He sat outside your door and snarled at anyone that came close.”

Mikleo squinted his eyes shut.

“When he finally left, he wandered around Ladylake. His domain was powerful like Heldalfs. We had to shut him down before he became a full blown Lord of Calamity. At least he lived out the rest of his days under a vow of silence, serving the church as clergy.”

Mikleo stood, visibly shaking. Sorey finished his bite and dabbed his mouth with a napkin, preparing to stand as well. Mikleo placed his hand on Sorey’s shoulder, pushing him back down.

“Finish your dinner. I’ll be upstairs.”

“Mikleo,” started Sorey.

Mikleo left and headed up the stairs, alone.

“Rose, he didn’t know,” said Alisha. “He never asked, and we left well enough alone. It was hundreds of years ago.”

“Well he should have known,” said Rose. “He was dating that monster for way too long.”

“They accomplished much greatness,” said Alisha. “You said as much. You told me my master Maltran was a hellion as well, and she taught me everything about the spear.”

“Yeah, but that was different,” said Rose. “He was Mikleo’s vessel. He didn’t know he was becoming tainted. We were all scared he was going to become a dragon. You were worried too, remember?”

“Yes, but we trusted Zaveid to watch over him,” said Alisha. “He didn’t let us down.”

“Was he in that much trouble?” asked Sorey.

“He was always in trouble,” said Rose. “Mikleo’s been pretty good at finding trouble over the year- Ow!”

“Rose, that’s enough. Let Sorey hear from Mikleo himself, at his own pace.”

“You think he was sober enough to remember half the stuff he did?” said Rose under her breath.

“Rose!” said Alisha. “Mind your manners!”

Rose looked at Sorey, who was looking uncomfortably away.

“Sorry, sorry,” said Rose. “Sometimes it’s hard to shut up. He really put us through a lot.”

“Well now you’ve upset Sorey.”

Sorey shook his head. “I’m not upset. I started to put some things together from the way people talked about him today. He seems fine now, but I want to understand why he made some of the choices he did.”

“He’s been good for the last three hundred years,” said Alisha.

“It sounds like life’s been pretty tough for him,” asked Sorey.

“Water is the most easily corrupted of elements, yet he always insisted on running headfirst into danger,” said Rose. “The poor guy is going to carry the seeds of malevolence in his heart forever.”

“I’m going to find a way to purify him. You can count on it.”

“We’ve all tried,” said Rose.

“The ocean was not kind to him,” said Alisha. “Two hundred and seventy years on the malevolent sea left a strong mark.”

“He’s still my Mikleo,” said Sorey, standing.

“I do hope you can purify him,” said Alisha. “I truly do. But you must also be realistic. Understand why he is the way he is, and protect him from malevolence in the future.”

“You have my promise,” said Sorey. “Thanks for the dinner.” He left to head upstairs.  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
“Mikleo, are you in here?”

Sorey entered the dark room, glancing around. He spotted the balcony doors cracked open. He slipped through, seeing Mikleo leaning back in one of two chairs. He took a seat in the second chair.

“What’re you doing out here?” asked Sorey.

“I...” Mikleo started. “I used to come out here a lot. You see over there, between those hills in the Westward sky?”

“It’s a little dark, but what about it?”

“That’s where your light used to shine.”

“Ah,” said Sorey.

“It’s a beautiful view. I’d come out here and watch your light for hours,” said Mikleo. “You were always there to comfort me.”

“But I wasn’t there to protect you,” said Sorey sadly. “I am now. Now and forever.”

“I’m not so weak that I need constant protection,” mumbled Mikleo.

“Neither am I, but I trust you to have my back,” said Sorey.

Mikleo hummed in agreement.

“Hey,” said Sorey, reaching his hand out towards Mikleo. “I’m sorry I brought him up. I’ll never talk about him again.”

“It’s alright,” said Mikleo. “I’m better off knowing the truth. Maybe it’ll help me let go and loosen these damned seeds.”

Sorey moved his hand again to get Mikleo’s attention. He seemed to sigh to himself before finally taking it.

“It’s a little chilly out here,” said Sorey. “The view is beautiful, though.”

“Gods, I’m selfish,” said Mikleo. The cold didn’t affect him the way it would Sorey’s fragile human body. “Let’s head back inside.” He dropped Sorey’s hand to open the balcony door. Sorey slipped inside with Mikleo right behind him.

Mikleo was surprised when Sorey pulled him into a gentle hug in the darkness of his home.

“Are you okay?” asked Sorey, running his hands up and down Mikleo’s back. Although surprised, Mikleo couldn’t help but melt into his embrace, indulging in his warmth.

“Fine,” said Mikleo. “A little ticked off at Rose.”

“I don’t want you to get sad again,” said Sorey.

“I’m fine,” said Mikleo. “Really.”

“You’ve been great to me,” said Sorey, squeezing Mikleo tightly.

“Don’t lie,” said Mikleo. “You were just outside freezing in the cold because of me.”

Sorey nuzzled Mikleo’s neck with his cold nose. Mikleo shivered.

“You invited me in your home to live with you. And I can tell you’ve been thinking about this for a long time,” said Sorey. “You prepared for me. The bed is big enough, the bath is big enough and you even have clothes for me.”

Mikleo chuckled. “You’ve got me all figured out, then. I prayed you would stay with me ever since I first moved in here.”

“I wanna be with you, always.”

“Sorey,” he said, his heart racing. “I want to be with you always too.”

 _He means platonically,_ he reminded himself. _He doesn’t know anything else._

“Do you want to read before bed?” asked Sorey, finally pulling back.

“Yeah,” said Mikleo. He waved a hand, switching on the mana powered Seraphic lighting in the home. “Sorry about the light. I’ve got some lanterns we just need to hang up.”

Sorey began unbuttoning his blue shirt, pulling it off and draping it over a chair. He began to work on his boots and pants as well.

“Is it alright if I wear this undershirt to bed?” asked Sorey.

“Whatever you like,” said Mikleo. “Be comfortable. I remember you used to wear just your underwear before you went to sleep.”

“What do you wear to bed?” asked Sorey.

Mikleo blushed. “Lately, nothing. But I have some pants I could wear.”

“Doesn’t matter to me,” said Sorey. “I just saw you naked a few hours ago.”

“Sorey...” Mikleo’s blush deepened.

“Which book should we read together?” asked Sorey.

“If it’s alright, let’s start with Volume Two of the Celestial Record. I’d like to show you everywhere I’ve been since you went to sleep.”

“Sounds good,” said Sorey, climbing into bed. Mikleo retrieved the book, setting it on the bed before derobing down to his underwear, finding a pair of sleep pants in his nightstand and pulling them on. He slipped under the covers, rolling onto to his belly next to Sorey. They opened the book to first page after the table of contents, finding a sketch of the Tintagel Ruins.

“Of course,” said Sorey. “This wasn’t in the Celestial Record.”

They read together quietly for an hour before Sorey began dozing off. Mikleo pulled the book from under his sleeping face, setting it gently on his nightstand and shutting off the Seraphic lighting.

“Good night, Sorey,” he said, planting a kiss on his cheek. “I want to be with you always too.”


	5. Close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorey begins to settle in to life at Ladylake with Mikleo.

The morning’s first light filtered through the slats of the wooden blinds. Mikleo blinked his eyes open, greeted by the sight of Sorey laying on the pillow beside him against the crook of his own arm, mouth open, breathing steadily.

_Good morning, Sorey._

He smiled to himself, watching Sorey’s breaths peacefully roll in and out, his chest rising and falling in even rhythm. He hoped he was comfortable. He hoped he was dreaming about something pleasant. He hoped he was happy.

Mikleo gently pushed his side of the blanket off and slipped out of bed carefully as to not disturb Sorey. He tiptoed to the kitchen, his footsteps light on the ground. He pulled a small container of tea from his cabinet as quietly as he could and brewed himself a cup. Holding the cup of tea he moved silently to the balcony door, slipping his finger between the wooden slats of the blinds and peeking through.

This was a routine he was familiar with, waking up at the crack of dawn to sip tea and watch Sorey’s light blend into the slowly rising daylight. He was a landmark, the proof of his heroic sacrifice beamed into the sky for all to see. But now, there was no light. Sorey was _here._ His landmark, his rock, his past, present and future, laying in his bed quiet and asleep.

It felt like luck. He was blessed to have this courageous, kind man in his life. He felt fortunate that Sorey latched on to him as well, returning his friendship and enriching his life with his presence. Their differences made them stronger, Sorey offering to be Mikleo’s vessel and protector, Mikleo returning his protection and serving as the anchor for his long life.

He felt his heart squeeze in his chest, his emotions running rampant. He choked back a silent tear, blinking his eyes tightly before returning to watch the empty spot in the sky where Sorey’s light once shone.

He heard a rustling noise behind him. He turned, drawing his fingers away from the slats of the blinds. Smiling, he took a sip of his tea, watching Sorey’s legs kick the blanket further down his body, his eyes already open.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Sorey slowly sat up, looking around the room.

“Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” said Sorey. He yawned, stretching his arms.

“It’s a little early,” said Mikleo. “You don’t have to get up now.”

“Smells good in here, what is that?”

“It’s tea, did you want some?”

“Yeah,” said Sorey, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “That’d be nice.”

Mikleo walked to the kitchen, practically gliding. He had already prepared a second cup, only needing to fill it with water of the proper temperature which he did rapidly. He sat on the bed beside Sorey, handing him the cup of sweet smelling tea.

“It’ll take a moment to brew,” said Mikleo. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Sorey held the cup to his nose, inhaling the scent of the white jasmine tea.

“I’m not your guest, don’t worry about me.” He quirked an eyebrow at Mikleo, gently smiling.

“I know, but I still want to make sure you’re comfortable. This is all new to you.”

Sorey hummed. “Thanks.” He closed his eyes and leaned back against the headboard of the bed, carefully holding his tea in front of him.

“Are you sure you want to get up now?” asked Mikleo. “It’s awfully early.”

“Are _you_ usually up this early?”

“Yeah.”

“What for?” asked Sorey curiously.

Mikleo took a long sip of his tea, closing his eyes and savoring the flavor. He remembered how much he used bite his tongue from Sorey, now vowing that he would keep no secrets.

“I train in the mornings,” said Mikleo.

Sorey hummed into his tea, taking the first sip. He followed Mikleo’s action of closing his eyes. From his reaction he seemed to enjoy it.

“You haven’t been training though, because of me,” said Sorey.

Mikleo stayed silent, caught in the truth. He was in fact feeling anxious as a result of skipping his morning sessions.

“Can I train with you?”

Mikleo scoffed in surprise. “If you’d like to. We can spar, like old times.”

Sorey grinned, taking one last gulp before setting his tea aside and practically leaping out of the bed. Mikleo watched amused as Sorey hopped on one foot excitedly pulling on his pants. He chuckled to himself.

“Well? Aren’t you going to get ready?” asked Sorey, struggling with his belt and scabbard.

Mikleo smirked before moving to the dresser and choosing a black ruffled undershirt and a pair of black socks. He sat on the bed, buttoning his shirt amused as Sorey moved like a blur to find his own white socks in the dresser. He sat by Mikleo, pulling his socks on at the same time as his friend. Mikleo pursed his lips, fighting the urge to grin as unabashedly as Sorey was. They moved together to the entryway, pulling on their respective boots, leaving their coats and cloaks behind before slipping out the door. Sorey pushed his way first, galloping down the stairs.

“You don’t even know where we’re going,” laughed Mikleo, struggling to pull his hair into a ponytail while following Sorey.

“I’ll still beat you there!” said Sorey.

They reached the bottom most step, Sorey landing on both feet. The cafe was quiet and still at this time of the morning. He sped to the door, proudly shoving his way out first.

Sorey’s energetic enthusiasm was contagious. He stood just outside the entrance, arms akimbo, taking in the sight of Ladylake in the morning light. Mikleo took the opportunity to bolt past him.

“Hey! No fair!” said Sorey, catching up behind him. “I don’t know the way!”

Mikleo glanced behind him, his ponytail swinging side to side. He smirked and continued running.

They arrived quickly at the small courtyard behind the tower. Mikleo took a moment to catch his breath. Sorey wandered slowly around the courtyard, breathing heavily, his eyes wide as he looked around. Blue rivulets of floral copper sulfate ore sparkled around the borders of the walls, blossoming into sparkling foliations.

“Is this because of you?” asked Sorey.

Mikleo stood straight and nodded.

“What’s that?” Sorey asked, pointing to the corner. There was a large object obscured by a canvas, glittering with a honeycomb mesh Sorey recognized as a seal.

“That’s actually a present for you,” said Mikleo.

“It is?” asked Sorey, slowly approaching the object.

“Go on, take a look,” said Mikleo, following behind Sorey.

Sorey curiously approached the object. He looked back at Mikleo for approval. Mikleo nodded. He apprehensively reached forward, his touch dispelling the seal. He grabbed the canvas and pulled, revealing a wooden goblin cart complete with red tipped white feathers, wooden spikes and a large hole for a cannon at the front.

“Mikleo!” yelped Sorey. “I love it!”

Mikleo smiled. “It's a replica. Every few decades I have a carpenter replace the wood-”

He was interrupted by Sorey slamming into him for a hug. He patted Sorey on the back. It was the second of forceful hugs in as many days, he was pleased to think he may be getting used to them again.

“Thank you,” said Sorey, pulling away. He excitedly inspected the cart, testing one foot against it before standing on the slats. He gripped the front, leaning against the cannon hole. The cart tilted forward. Mikleo watched from nearby, amused.

“Can you just imagine?” asked Sorey. “I wish we had this in Elysia when we were young. We could have had so much fun!”

Mikleo hummed, leaning against the cart. The cart wobbled as Sorey slid his foot back to balance his weight, removing his right hand to pull his sword from its sheath. He held the ornamental sword forward, aimed at Mikleo, his left hand still tightly gripping the front of the cart.

“Oh? Are you going to fight me from there?”

Sorey grinned, stepping off the cart and continuing to point his sword at Mikleo. Mikleo flicked his wrist, summoning his staff. He held it at the ready, the men slowly circling around each other.

“No artes?” asked Mikleo.

“No artes,” Sorey agreed.

The men raised their weapons and attacked, showing no mercy in their actions. They fiercely battled, expertly swinging their weapons at each other, Shepherd and Seraph. After centuries of training it was no surprise Mikleo found himself outmaneuvering Sorey round after round with ease.

“No fair,” said Sorey, breathing heavily. “You’re taller now, your reach is better.”

“It has nothing to do with height,” said Mikleo.

Sorey turned and swung, trying his best to catch Mikleo off guard. It nearly worked, Mikleo stumbled before blocking but successfully warded Sorey off. Sorey continued swinging relentlessly, strike after strike but it was to no avail. Mikleo continued to block each attack skillfully, landing the first blow every time. Sorey took a step back, chest heaving from exhaustion.

“Had enough yet?” asked Mikleo, his own breaths shallow from exertion.

Sorey grinned, grabbing the bottom of his shirt and yanking it over his head revealing his naked chest. Beads of sweat glistened against his tanned skin in the morning sun. Not to be outdone Mikleo rapidly unbuttoned his shirt as well, sliding the long sleeved ruffled shirt off behind him exposing his sinewy upper body and slim waist. He rolled his shoulders and neck side to side. The men circled each other, weapons at the ready.

“I won’t lose,” said Sorey, his weapon poised to strike.

“It’s a little late for that,” said Mikleo, smirking.

The determination in Sorey’s eyes shone as he began his onslaught, each blow blocked by Mikleo’s almost clairvoyant reaction time. He swung high and low, finally recognizing an opening. He hooked his ornamental sword under Mikleo’s staff, tossing it away and slapped his weapon against Mikleo’s midsection.

“Took you long enough,” said Mikleo, resummoning his staff in his hand.

Sorey grinned, victorious. The men circled each other once more, this time Mikleo striking first in revenge. Sorey blocked blow after blow and recognized yet another opening, once again landing the first strike. Mikleo wrinkled his nose and poised himself for another round. The men battled fiercely for several more rounds. After his two small victories, Sorey was unable to gain an advantage for the rest of the morning. Mikleo reigned triumphant. Sorey sheathed his sword and rested his hands on his knees.

“I think that’s enough for today,” said Mikleo between ragged breaths, dismissing his staff.

Sorey stood up straight, chest still heaving. He gathered his shirt from the nearby grass, slipping it on over his sweaty body. “Can we eat? I’m starving.”

Mikleo pulled his own shirt on, buttoning it from the top down. He wrinkled his nose. “Can I ask you a serious question?”

Sorey scratched his head. “Sure, I guess.”

“Are you sure you got all of your senses back after waking up?”

“Huh?”

“Your nose must not be working if you can’t smell yourself right now.”

Sorey shoved a punch at Mikleo’s shoulder, who laughed in return.

“Race you to the shower?” Sorey’s smile shone.

“You’re on.” Mikleo quirked an eyebrow before bolting away once again. Sorey followed closely jogging just behind, reaching the tower and shoving his way through the door alongside Mikleo. The cafe had begun to see its first few patrons, they must have been terribly confused watching the legendary Grand Seraph Mikleo shove and push past a brown haired man rumored to have been the Great Sleeping Shepherd. The boys laughed as they ran up the stairs, finally reaching the sixth floor, winded.

“I win,” squeaked Mikleo, Sorey’s elbow in his side, as he reached out to unseal the door. Sorey pushed past him to enter the apartment first.

“The contest was to the shower!” said Sorey, stripping his clothes off and tossing them behind him unceremoniously before reaching the washroom. His hands gripped the door frame for stability before he swung inside.

Mikleo closed the apartment door behind him, following in kind and dropping his clothes as he made it to the washroom. He found Sorey standing naked in the tub, analyzing the different faucet knobs. Mikleo stepped carefully in the tub behind him.

“Hurry up and turn it on,” said Mikleo.

“Give me a second!” said Sorey, tapping his chin as he studied the knobs.

Sorey reached out to turn a knob. He felt a stream of water hit him in the ear from behind. He instinctually reached up to to try to bat away the attack.

“Not that one!” said Mikleo, his hand raised, poised to strike again.

Sorey grabbed another knob and turned it. Water began pouring from the faucet. He felt another squirt of water hit his ear.

“Now do the other one!” said Mikleo.

“I can figure it out!” said Sorey, testing the water by running his hand through it. He jerked back, finding the temperature was cold. He turned the other two knobs as water was routed to the large shower head. Sorey continued fiddling with the knobs until the shower was a desirable temperature. He turned to grin triumphantly, but instead found himself with a face full of water, compliments of Mikleo. He sputtered and laughed, trying to splash water from the shower back at Mikleo with his hands. Mikleo chuckled and turned away, allowing the shower to soak his hair before lathering with shampoo and conditioner, passing the bottles to Sorey in succession. They laughed together, sharing and reveling in the morning’s silliness.

For the first time in a long time, Mikleo was truly happy.

After the shower, the men got dressed and headed downstairs to the cafe for some much needed breakfast. Mikleo slipped his way in the booth first, surprised yet pleased to find Sorey scooting next to him on the same side. Mikleo pulled a menu from the side of the table, placing it in front of both of them to read.

“Welcome back, my Lords,” said the waitress. “What’ll it be?”

“The Adventurers’ Breakfast!” said Sorey proudly.

“And for you, Grand Seraph?”

“I’ll take the same. And a parfait on the side, please.”

“Anything else?”

“Oh! Can I get extra bacon too?” Asked Sorey.

“Sure thing,” said the waitress, jotting down their orders. She smiled and turned.

“You must have enjoyed that if you’re getting it again,” said Mikleo, gently punching Sorey in the side. Sorey quirked an eyebrow before jamming his fingers between Mikleo’s ribs, causing him to contort and squirm away.

“Still ticklish?” said Sorey.

Mikleo pursed his lips. He didn’t have his corseted belts to save him now. He quickly deduced that his best defense was offense. He jammed his finger at Sorey’s ticklish ribs, earning the same squirming reaction.

“Quit that,” said Mikleo, grinning. “I’m the Grand Seraph of Water. You can’t be doing that kind of thing.”

“The _ticklish_ Grand Seraph of Water.” Sorey lurched forward, successfully landing a squeeze against Mikleo’s tender sides. He let out a yelp before swatting Sorey’s hands away.

“Oh? And what of the ticklish Great Shepherd?” Mikleo jabbed Sorey between the ribs in retaliation.

“Ah... Mikleo!” he said, squirming to avoid Mikleo’s fingers before returning the jab.

“Sorey-”

Sorey chuckled, holding his side in protection. “You haven’t changed nearly as much as you think you have.”

“What?!” said Mikleo in a surprised stupor. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You still get flustered just as easy,” said Sorey, grinning, attacking with more blocked tickles.

“What? I... I do not!” stuttered Mikleo, his blushing face doing nothing to help his case.

“Do too,” said Sorey, adamantly.

“Stop that,” said Mikleo, blocking Sorey’s fingers from reaching his ribs. “I have too changed.”

“Maybe so, but you’re still the same sweet, simple soul.”

Mikleo quirked an eyebrow and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Sorey grinned wildly.

The waitress stopped by and dropped off a plate of bacon. Mikleo reached for it first, finding his hand was slapped away by Sorey.

“C’mon, share.”

“Fine, but you have to give me some of your parfait.”

“Deal.”

It wasn’t long before the rest of their food arrived, Sorey stealing more than his fair share of the parfait. Mikleo didn’t mind. It reminded him of their youth in Elysia, all the frozen treats he had learned and mastered for Sorey, crafting them two even portions in vain; Sorey would always finish first, still hungry for more. Mikleo would offer the remainder to make his friend happy time after time. Pancakes, eggs, sausage, bacon and parfait all disappeared quickly at the hands of the two hungry men.

“We’ve got a little time before we have to head to the shrine,” said Sorey, dabbing his face with his napkin. “What do you want to do?”

“I was hoping we would could swing by the Academy,” said Mikleo, carefully eyeing Sorey for his reaction. “I wanted to check in on the progress of my class.”

Mikleo was pleased to see a smile grow on Sorey’s face.

“Of course! I finally get to see the Academy. I’ve heard so much about it!” Sorey slid out of the booth and stood, offering his hand. Mikleo took it and pulled himself out of the booth.

“So what kind of class were you teaching?” asked Sorey, starting the walk outside.

“Temperance of Avarost, specifically the Seraphic influence on design and style. Recognizing themes and patterns,” said Mikleo.

“Wow,” said Sorey. “We had to figure out that stuff with only books.”

Mikleo smirked. “Shepherds of this Era were much more well prepared than us. Not to say that we were uneducated in the slightest.”

“Still, I know there’s so much more I can learn,” said Sorey. “Maybe one day I can take a few of the classes here?”

“Of course,” said Mikleo, opening the large gates to the Academy. “You have all the time in the world.”

Sorey followed Mikleo down the main pathways, nearing the large courtyard in the center. A few students filtered by at the early hour. Sorey stood in front of the courtyard, stopped. He tugged at the nearest of the six tails of Mikleo’s cape, causing him to stop as well.

“What’s that over there?” he asked.

“Hmm? Oh that, those are archery targets.”

“Archery?” asked Sorey.

“Indeed,” responded Mikleo. “Most combat training is done in Pendrago, but we train in the bow here.”

“Armatus training, huh?” asked Sorey.

“Indeed,” said Mikleo.

Sorey drew his hands away from Mikleo’s cloak and began walking towards the center of the courtyard.

“Sorey, what are you...”

“Those targets over there?” asked Sorey, pointing.

Mikleo nodded. “I can find you a bow if you'd like to test your aim.”

Sorey cocked a smile. “I don't need a bow. I have you.”

“Sorey, you can't possibly mean-”

“Luzrov Rulay!”

In a flash of brilliant, dazzling light they were one. Mikleo’s indignation quickly melted into Sorey’s excitement and warmth as he relinquished control of his essence. He felt his power pulled to fill every facet of Sorey’s body, enhancing, empowering and creating them, their joined bodies and souls thrumming with power. Mikleo felt his mana, their mana levelling and evening, their cool water energies lapping at their consciousness like the the ocean tide, waxing and waning. Finally, after seven hundred years, they were them.

They glanced down to see the large white and blue blessed bow in their hands, their sleeves white with ornamental gold filigree. Sorey willed their arms to lift the bow, aiming at the target and pulling back the bowstring. A single bolt of water nocked against the bow.

“You’re letting me aim?” asked Sorey in both their voices.

“This isn’t a matter of life and death,” echoed Mikleo. “Besides, you wanted to test _your_ aim.”

“Have a little faith,” said Sorey, lining up the shot. Decorative lattices of blue light danced around the front of the bow, growing larger the longer the string was held.

“Just try not to kill any students,” echoed Mikleo. A few students had gathered at the corner of the courtyard, watching with mouths agape and eyes wide, whispering amongst themselves.

Sorey smirked and relaxed a touch, releasing the bowstring. The water bolt sailed through the air, splashing against the outer ring of the target. A blue dot glowed on the target indicating the impact point before fading, the target shining with a reflective sheen of a seal absorbing the attack.

“Give me more power,” said Sorey. He held the bow in front of him, drawing back the string.

“Get your aim straight first,” echoed Mikleo. A single water bolt nocked against the bow.

“C’mon,” said Sorey. “Show me what you’ve got.”

“We’d level the school, not to mention the rest of Ladylake,” echoed Mikleo. “Show me you can aim first, and I’ll see what I can do.”

“I hit the target,” said Sorey.

“Hardly,” echoed Mikleo.

Their nose wrinkled as Sorey guided their arms, taking a little more time to balance the weight in their stance. He released the bowstring, this time hitting the middle ring with the water formed arrow.

“Just think,” echoed Mikleo. “If I had left the aiming up to you, we’d still be in the Age of Chaos.”

“It’s been seven hundred years since I’ve fired a bow,” said Sorey, pulling the bowstring back and waiting for the next bolt to nock. “Be nice.”

“Your stance is too narrow,” echoed Mikleo.

“I got this,” said Sorey, widening their legs. “I don’t need your help.”

“Sure,” said Mikleo. “I’ve only been doing this for centuries, what do I know?”

They smirked. Their fingers released the bowstring, the bolt sailing true and smacking the target directly in the center before dissipating. They pumped their fist in the air, both quietly feeling the satisfaction of success, and the disappointment of no one to enjoy the success with and bump their fist against.

“Alright,” said Sorey, raising the blessed bow and pulling the bowstring back. “Let’s do it! Lend me your full power!”

Mikleo echoed a sigh. “You asked for it.”

A large white bolt of thick icy energies filled the bow, glowing and glittering with frozen water energies. The bolt grew with immense strength, a strength greater than Sorey ever had the opportunity to wield. Heavy with power, Sorey worked to wrangle and control the bow. They grinned, aiming the tremendous power at their fingertips and carefully lined up the shot, the bolt ringed with growing latticework of filigreed blue light. Once Sorey was sure and felt no disapproval from Mikleo they apprehensively released the string. The bolt shone like a white flame sailing through the air, streams of blue ornamental light tracing behind it like dancing fireflies. It sailed true, smashing into the center of the target, the netted seal refracting and absorbing the blow.

Their heart beat excitedly at their shared success. Mikleo peeled himself from Sorey, sliding and rematerializing beside him. He’d never let Sorey know how much he’d exhausted himself in that simple action, yet he’d do it a hundred, a thousand times over just to bring him happiness. He turned and extended his wrist to Sorey, his heart full at the sight of Sorey’s overjoyed face. Sorey’s wrist bumped against his firmly. Mikleo felt his tired body relaxing and a great smile begin to overpower his face, earning wrinkles by his eyes.

“Wow, that was amazing, Mikleo! That was way stronger than back in Marlind!”

Mikleo grinned larger, doing his best to control his heaving breaths. “I’m far beyond Normin power now.”

Sorey glanced back at the crowd of students that had gathered at the corner of the courtyard. He waved, smiling at them. The students bowed and knelt, whispering amongst each other. He turned back to Mikleo.

“So,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “What were you here to check on?”

“Right, I’m here on business after all. The classrooms are this way,” said Mikleo, pointing down a path leading away from the courtyard.

Sorey nodded firmly and headed towards the pathway, Mikleo walking by his side. He watched Sorey through his peripheral vision, wondering if he had similar thoughts about how natural and incredible it felt to be _them_ after so many years. It became apparent he couldn’t have been, not with the way he was studying and taking in the Academy, oohing and ahhing at the various plaques, tapestries and statues lining the hallways. They finally reached their destination as Mikleo reached forward to open the door.

“Alright. This should only take a few minutes and we’ll be on our-”

“Professor Mikleo!”

Mikleo visibly cringed as the door swung open against his will. The owner of the voice was a shrill Seraph woman, with wild silver shoulder length hair tipped with subtle aquamarine, wearing a blue cloak trimmed with black circular patterns and lines reminiscent of a Shepherd.

“Professor Raine,” said Mikleo, somewhat weakly.

“You’ve got some nerve showing up back here!”

“What?! This is my classroom, after all!” sputtered Mikleo.

“Always coming and going as you please,” said the woman, grinning. “How were the Ruins of Avalon?”

“Incredible,” said Mikleo. “The ties to Amenoch are powerful. I’d love to go over my notes with you.”

“I’ll be visiting myself soon,” she said, arms folded, grinning. “I assume that’s the Great Shepherd?” she asked, gesturing at Sorey with her chin. Sorey had already slipped inside the classroom, slowly wandering and taking in the sights of the long rows of books, maps and artwork covering the walls.

“It sure is,” said Mikleo, smiling warmly at the curious human. “Say hello, Sorey.”

“Oh!” Sorey blushed. “I’m sorry, the classroom is just so cool! I’ve never seen anything like it.” He jogged closer to the Seraph, extending his hand. “I’m Sorey. Nice to meet you!”

“Professor Raine,” she said, shaking his hand. “It’s great to finally meet you.”

Sorey grinned. “So do you take care of Mikleo’s class when he’s gone?”

“Is that what you’ve told him?” asked Raine. “That this is _your_ curriculum?”

“It _is_ my curriculum. I developed most of the courses here, Professor,” reminded Mikleo.

“And I refined them while you were off parading around,” said Raine.

“Exploring, purifying and documenting,” corrected Mikleo. “We wouldn’t have half these textbooks without my work. Besides, you did the same in your youth.”

“Ahh, to be exploring ruins again,” said Raine, smiling. “We’ll trade places one day.”

Mikleo hummed in satisfaction. Arms folded, he watched as Sorey continued flitting about the classroom, running his fingers over the collections of leather bound books, excitedly reading the titles and choosing a few to browse through.

“It may be awhile before I return to teaching,” said Mikleo, lowering his volume. “If I do at all.”

“Say no more,” said Raine, striding to the large desk at the head of the classroom. “We all knew you had plans to leave when he awoke. It’s been nice having you around, for the last thirty years at least.”

Mikleo bit his tongue. “Shall we review the class’ progress?”

She obliged him, running through the grading books and progress reports of each of the students. As Mikleo promised he didn’t take long, finding satisfaction in the thoroughness of Raine’s documentation. Soon he was saying a short goodbye and a promise to return, gathering Sorey and rushing him towards the shrine.

They reached the backdoor of the shrine, once again greeted by Rose, Alisha and Lailah. They exchanged their morning hellos, kindly hugging and touching foreheads to each other. Sorey looked towards Mikleo expectantly.

“I’ll be right over here, okay?” Mikleo smiled warmly.

“Right!” Sorey nodded before heading towards the altar, greeting Maotelus and taking a seat.

Mikleo flopped into the empty chair at the tea table waiting for him, wearing an extraordinarily goofy grin.

“What’s that all about?” asked Rose.

He turned to her, his eyes relaxed and expression easily read.

“I’m in love,” said Mikleo, grinning stupidly and leaning his chair back.

“Oh my,” said Lailah,” fanning herself with a paper card.

“Did something happen? Dish!” said Rose, leaning forward against the table.

Mikleo shook his head. “We had a great morning. We sparred, I got to show him the Academy, we armatized briefly.” He turned, glancing over at Sorey, already speaking with a visitor. “I had missed him so much, now I have my best friend back. For the first time in a long time, I can truly say I’m happy.” He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes.

“But you haven’t told him how you feel?” asked Alisha quietly.

Mikleo shook his head. “In due time. He doesn’t need to be burdened with that right now.”

“Mikleo,...” started Rose.

He waved his hand dismissively. “I know, I know. Just... Let me have this.”

“Let's do some fortune telling!” exclaimed Lailah, in an attempt to change the subject as she often did. Mikleo, in as cheeky as a mood as he was, obliged by leaning forward. She produced a fanned set of cards, which he pulled three from. She set the cards face down on the table.

“The Twin Fish,” she announced, flipping the first card. An image on the card displayed two fish swimming around each other in a circle, identical in every way.

“I always pull that one,” he said, leaning his chin on his fist. “Is it still a reminder of balance in all things?”

“My my, don't get ahead of ourselves,” said Lailah in a sing song voice, beaming a smile. She flipped the second card.

“The Lovers,” she said, the card showing two people in a tender embrace, their hands on each others faces.

Rose wrinkled her nose. Alisha seemed to recognize her reaction, mouthing silent words to her wife. Rose narrowed her eyes and nodded.

“Regardless of what you think, Rose, we do love each other.”

“I didn't say anything,” said Rose.

“The final card,” said Lailah, slowly flipping it over with her delicate, long fingers. “The Fool. Oh my!”

Rose couldn't help but giggle to herself.

“What?! What's that supposed to mean?” He leaned forward out of his chair.

“Relax, Mik, it's just a fortune.” Rose leaned back and smiled. Now it was Alisha's turn to giggle, covering her mouth with her hand.

Lailah smiled pensively. “The Fool,” she repeated. “There will be mistakes made on your journey.” Her hands moved back to the Twin Fish. “A balance between experience and innocence will be difficult to overcome.” She slid The Lovers card forward. “Love comes in many forms. Remember this, and remember to balance all things. Patience is key.”

Mikleo leaned back in his chair. “Haven't I been patient enough?” He mumbled.

Lailah smiled warmly. “Oh Mikleo, I can't wait to see what happens. I'm so excited for you!”

Mikleo turned to glance at Sorey, surprised to find his eyes were already on him. Sorey waved excitedly. Mikleo's heart rose in his chest, he raised his hand to wave. Sorey beamed a smile in return.

“I can't wait either,” said Mikleo, slowly lowering his hand and returning it to his lap. He smiled and leaned back in his chair.

  


 

* * *

 

  


“My Lords, I have prepared your offerings. I pray that it pleases you.” Mikleo knelt before the altar, the cold bowls plucked from his hands. He peeked up to find their reactions.

“It’s mango sorbet!” announced Sorey. “I'd remember the taste anywhere.”

“It's so good,” said Maotelus, taking another spoonful into his mouth. “Thanks, Mikleo.”

Mikleo stood and bowed. He turned to leave.

“Ah, Mikleo...” Started Sorey.

“Yes, my Lord?” He asked, turning back. Sorey blushed at the title, understanding it was a formality in front of the crowds.

“Your hair... Do you think Lailah could teach me how to do that?” He asked, nervously pushing the tips of his two pointer fingers together, balancing the bowl of sorbet in his lap.

Mikleo reached up, running his finger along the thick fishtail braid in his hair that he had nearly forgotten about.

“Braiding like this is an art form. If she has the patience to show you, I wouldn't mind letting you practice on me.” He blushed at the thought before turning again, not letting the crowd see his reddened face.

“It's really pretty,” blurted Sorey.

“...Thanks,” he squeaked, before retreating to the tea table. He rejoined the other three Seraphim, having a seat and immediately setting his head on the table.

“I would be happy to teach him,” said Lailah, taking a sip of her tea.

Throughout the centuries, Mikleo had come to Lailah time and time again seeking comfort. She was always kind, somehow always able to produce a comb and groom Mikleo's hair, her delicate fingertips weaving intricate braids and styles into his thick silvery locks. Her touch had served to placate him and quell his aching void of loneliness, a reminder of the closeness he had lost with Sorey. And now, the idea of Sorey asking to touch, to braid his hair was overwhelming. He remembered when Sorey first found him when he had awoken, running his fingers through Mikleo's thick curls, cut short by his fear of the malevolence in Mikleo's conflicted heart. He pushed the thought away, doing his best to control his overflowing emotions, unsure of just how much Sorey could sense from him.

“Thank you, Lailah,” he said, sniffling into his sleeve.

“With allllll your experience, you'd think you'd really know how to flirt by now. You two are like a bunch of shy teenagers.” Rose folded her arms behind her head, leaning back in her chair.

Mikleo kept his head down and raised a finger to point at Rose, shooting a small stream of water at her. She must have caught it mid air, turning and launching it back at Mikleo. It hit him on the crowd of his head. He finally sat up, sputtering and laughing with her.

  
  
  


* * *

 

  


“Sorry we stayed so late tonight,” said Sorey, exiting the shrine with Mikleo by his side.

“It's no big deal, I'm just worried about you. Don't push yourself too hard.”

“Relax, I'm just sitting there talking to people all day.”

“Still, you need some time for yourself.” Mikleo opened the door to the tower, entering the first floor of the cafe. “Are you hungry now?”

“Starving _,_ ” said Sorey.

Mikleo smiled warmly. “Where do you want to sit?

Sorey pointed towards the booth they had shared breakfast at. Mikleo once again slid in the booth first, ensuring his left hand would be on the inside of the table. Sorey slid next to him, his warm body strangely but not unwelcomingly close. Mikleo tested the waters, wrapping his arm around Sorey. He was pleased to find Sorey leaning against him. Mikleo smiled, opening the menu in front of them.

Sorey pored over the menu as Mikleo reached up to play with his hair. Sorey yawned.

“Tired?” asked Mikleo.

“Yeah,” said Sorey.

Mikleo hummed and continued playing with Sorey's hair.

“Good evening, my Lords,” said the waitress. “May I take your orders?”

“Do you have mabo curry buns?” asked Sorey.

“Absolutely, would you like a dinner portion?”

“Yes please,” Sorey.

“And for you, Grand Seraph?”

“Mmm... I was going to get the Drago stew, but mabo curry buns sounds great. I'll have that.”

“Coming right up,” she said, jotting do their orders and leaving.

Mikleo felt Sorey taking a deep breath. He pulled the human closer, running his hands along his arm.

“Don't fall asleep here,” said Mikleo.

“I'm not,” said Sorey, shifting slightly.

“Something on your mind?” asked Mikleo.

“I was just thinking,” said Sorey. “You know how some of the humans thought we might be lovers?”

“...Yeah,” said Mikleo apprehensively.

“I think it's because we're so close. And people can't understand what we have.”

Mikleo pursed his lips. He took a deep breath before pushing a kiss against the top of Sorey's head.

“I don't care about them, or what they think,” mumbled Mikleo.

“Me neither,” said Sorey.

Mikleo hummed, his fingers dancing along the feathers on Sorey's ear cuffs. Sorey twitched slightly, his arm finding its way around Mikleo's waist. Mikleo shivered, unsure of how to react. He felt Sorey fussing with his thin leather belt.

“Tell me about this?” asked Sorey.

Despite his desire to stay in Sorey's embrace indefinitely he leaned away and turned, looking down. He ran his fingers along the thin leather belt, bringing the feathers forward.

“They're from Elysialarks,” said Mikleo.

“I figured as much,” said Sorey. “When did you start wearing them?”

“When Maotelus first awoke without you,” he started, “I found the feathers far from Elysia. I was on my way to visit your resting place. The winds were different; his domain was present, but weak. It was a sign of sorts, of change and the proof of our dream. I wear them as a reminder of our dream, of a world where humans and Seraphim can co-exist. A world like we live in now.”

Sorey hummed, running the feathers along his fingers.

_It was also when I admitted to myself that I was in love with you. When I realized that you were my one and only._

“They're like mine,” said Sorey.

“Yeah,” said Mikleo. “That might be on purpose. We're not all that different, you and I.”

Sorey smiled, dropping the feathers and returning to leaning against Mikleo.

“We really did it, huh.”

“Hmm?”

“Our dream came true. Now we can explore the world, and humans and Seraphim live together in peace.” Sorey paused. “I wanna go, Mikleo. I wanna see it all.”

“You have plenty of time,” said Mikleo. “When you're done here, we can go.” He pressed a kiss to Sorey's head. “I'll guide you around the world.”

“I'll miss everyone,” said Sorey. “We have to come back and visit, at least.”

“Of course,” said Mikleo. “I never wander for too long, anyway.”

“Why's that?” asked Sorey.

“Well,” started Mikleo. “I always stayed close so I could visit you,” said Mikleo. “I guess I don't need to do that anymore.”

He found Sorey's gloved fingertips prodding against his own, seeking to hold his hand. He obliged, allowing their fingertips to weave together, forming a single, joined fist.

“I felt you,” said Sorey. “Even with no senses, I knew when you were there.”

Mikleo squeezed his hand.

“I'm glad,” he said quietly.

His heart caught in his throat. He remembered Lailah’s fortune, patience and balance.

It wasn't long before their food arrived and they untwined themselves from each other. The mabo curry buns were as good as they remembered, based on Rose's original recipe passed down through the ages.

They found themselves quietly walking up the stairs together, entering the silent apartment. Sorey began shedding his clothes in preparation for sleep, stripping to his undershirt and underpants. Mikleo changed as well, leaving his chest bare and pulling on his sleep pants, gathering their clothes for the wash. He found Sorey slipping under the covers, pleased to see he had decided to remove his shirt as well. His feathered earcuffs sat on the nightstand by his bedside, a reminder for Mikleo to remove his own circlet. He pulled the circlet from his temples, placing it on his own nightstand next to the book they had been reading the night before.

“Shall we read?” Asked Mikleo.

“Yes please,” said Sorey. “Can we continue with Volume Two?”

“Of course,” said Mikleo. He gathered the book from the nightstand, slipping under the covers next to Sorey. He reopened the book at the page they had left off on the night before, setting the book on a pillow between them. The men laid on their bellies under the covers, side by side.

“The Great Northern Empire of Lohgrin,” read Sorey. “We thought it was long since destroyed.”

“Not at all. With trade routes blocked, they grew independent from the world. The Empire was hidden much further North than the Lohgrin you and I knew.” Mikleo reached up to his braid, removing the leather tie at the end and beginning to unweave the delicate ravels.

“Can I do that for you?” asked Sorey.

Mikleo bit his lip to hide his smile. He sat up in the bed, turning away. Sorey's hands were soon on his hair, analysing and pulling each lock free of the complicated braid. Mikleo took a deep breath, warmth welling in his chest.

“Tell me more about the Northern Empire?” asked Sorey.

Mikleo chuckled. “Wouldn't you rather read about it? The book is right there.”

“Why would I when I have you?”

Mikleo blushed. Sorey's hands continued to work on freeing Mikleo's locks as he began to understand how the braid had been put together.

“The further North you travel, the colder it gets. The whole Empire was once thick with malevolence, overrun by powerful hellions. The book will speak of the architecture and culture, but not of the challenges we faced to bring order.”

“What kind of challenges?”

“Well for starters, their Lord of the Land was a drake, and their Empress a hellion.”

“But you were able to purify them?” asked Sorey.

“We did,” said Mikleo. “It took time, but we restored order. Their culture stands out on it's own, brilliant minds of the past had woven great stories and novels and ballets. We worked hard to bring copies of great literature back with us to share with the rest of the world.”

Sorey hummed, pulling the last of the strands of Mikleo's hair free. He ran his fingertips along Mikleo's scalp, fluffing and running his fingers through his hair. Mikleo shivered, melting into the action.

“What kind of literature?” asked Sorey.

“Wonderful works of fiction,” said Mikleo. “They're all at the Academy library, if you want to read them sometime. Most are about the great reverence humans had for Seraphim.”

“Is that your kind of thing?” asked Sorey.

Sorey continued to dance his fingers through Mikleo's thick hair, separating out locks and unsuccessfully attempting to twine them together.

“I can't say I mind being worshipped,” said Mikleo slyly. “I do gain strength from prayers to Amenoch, after all.”

Sorey hummed. “Do you think that's why you're so strong now? Because more humans believe in Seraphim?”

“Absolutely,” said Mikleo. “Being in the public eye has only made us stronger.”

He gave Mikleo's hair one last fluff before conceding defeat, drawing his fingers back. Mikleo turned, smiling before laying back down on the bed. Sorey followed, his eyes glued to the Seraph. Mikleo turned back to the book, his fingers tracing the next passage.

“Built during the height of the Era of Asgard, the Northern Empire was constructed with strong defenses in mind to protect against hellion attacks. Despite the functionality of these defenses, they were often decorated with statues of flora and fauna in reverence of the art and beauty in the world. The Northern Empire quickly became a great center of culture, artistry and intelligence.”

Sorey hummed, following along. They continued reading together, Sorey often going on tangents and asking for explanations and details. Mikleo’s heart swelled with pride, knowing what was once theory and conjecture was now experience and memory.

Soon, Sorey’s head began drooping, his eyes shutting before jerking upright, feigning alertness only to repeat the cycle.

“You should get some rest,” said Mikleo, placing a bookmark between the pages of Volume Two and pulling the book from between them. He waved his hand to shut off the seraphic powered lights.

Sorey mumbled something that may have been a protest. Mikleo pulled the blanket over Sorey’s shoulders, tucking him under the covers.

“Good night, Sorey. Sleep well.”

“G’night, Mikleo.”

Mikleo leaned back into the pillow, his mind full of fresh memories of the day’s events. It wasn’t long before sleep found him.

It had been a good day.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! There will be a little spice in the next chapter, then back to plot. Be forewarned!


	6. Falling

Mikleo awoke first, just before the first light of dawn. He stretched his arms, shutting his eyes tightly, startled by a throbbing between his legs.

He wrinkled his nose in disdain. Had he been dreaming? If he had, he couldn’t remember what about. It didn’t matter much now. For now, as long as he thought about something else it would go away.

He opened his eyes, his heart filling with warmth. There laid Sorey, his drooling mouth resting against the crook of his own elbow. The blanket half covered his body, leaving his bare chest and strong, tanned arms exposed. He traced the line of Sorey’s shoulder muscles down his upper arm to his elbow with his eyes, wondering what kind of strength he held, how easily he would be able to pin Mikleo to the mattress, rendering him unable to retaliate, his body free for Sorey to do whatever he may desire.

His hardness throbbed.

 _These sorts of thoughts are not helping_ , he reminded himself.

Yet, he was unable to look away. He watched as Sorey slept, his chest rising and falling with every breath, his perfect lips parted slightly.

_I could slip myself in his mouth. He’s a good boy. He’d suck me off if I asked._

His eyes shot wide open at his own thought. He curled his legs against his body, trying to hide within himself. The thought of his tip sliding against Sorey’s lips began again, Sorey’s tongue dragging against his shaft, his hands gripping Mikleo’s thighs, grabbing his butt and pulling him closer, further into his throat.

He let out a tiny uncomfortable sound, his legs kicking slightly and toes curling.

_No, these sorts of thoughts are decidedly not helping._

Sorey shifted, rolling to his back and leaning against the pillow before stilling again. Mikleo breathed a sigh of relief. He couldn’t let Sorey see him like this. There was no choice but to leave the bed and take care of himself.

_But why not pleasure myself right here in bed? Why not cum on Sorey’s beautiful body, watching my seed slide down into his belly button? Why not cum into his mouth, and we can discover together if he enjoys my taste?_

He shook his head, pursing his lips.

 _No,_ he thought to himself. _He’s far too innocent for that. He shouldn't have to put up with my depraved behavior._

Mikleo slowly pushed the blanket from himself revealing the angry tent formed by the hardness within his pants. He sighed, resigned to be controlled by his body. He silently made his way to the washroom and closed the door behind himself.

He never had a need to pleasure himself anywhere else in his home beyond his bed before. Sorey would be awake soon, he needed to handle himself quick. He chose to lean over the bathtub, his right hand leaning forward against the wall, his left sliding into his pants and pulling his hard dick over his elastic waistline. It was angry and firm, the tip already glistening with precum.

He wasted no time stroking himself. He allowed his mind to wander, thinking back to Sorey half-naked and asleep. He was right there in the next room, warm and beautiful in his bed. He fantasized once again about sliding his dick into Sorey’s mouth, his most well-rehearsed and memorable fantasy. He imagined all the tiny, glorious noises Sorey might make, his feathered earrings tickling against Mikleo’s inner thighs, his beautiful emerald eyes looking up at him, Mikleo’s hand carding through his thick brown hair.

Mikleo bit his lip, stroking himself faster and more firmly. He needed to finish before Sorey woke up. His breaths shortened. He couldn’t help but let out a few tiny pants of his own before biting his lip, forcing his shuddered breaths through his nose.

He felt his build up, the tension rising. He focused on keeping his rhythm steady, his heart drumming against his chest like a wild tribal rhythm. He finally felt his release begin. Relief and pleasure flowed through his veins. Gasping for air, his knees grew weak and shaky as he firmly stroked himself into completion, aiming his cum at the drain of the tub.

“Mikleo, are you okay?” he heard Sorey’s voice call.

He inhaled a deep breath, pulling his elastic waistline back up and summoning water to sweep his ejaculate down the drain in one swift movement.

“Don’t come in,” called Mikleo.

Sorey rushed in anyway, finding Mikleo leaning over the tub.

“Is everything alright? Are you okay?” asked Sorey, charging towards Mikleo and gently placing his hands on his back.

“Damnit, Sorey... I told you not to come in. I’m fine.” he swatted Sorey’s hands away and turned. To his surprise, Sorey furrowed his brow, raising his hands again and placing them against Mikleo’s chest.

“What’re you doing, Sorey?” he asked angrily, swatting Sorey’s hands away again.

“What... what _was_ that?” Sorey curiously continued to paw at Mikleo’s chest. “It was just here...”

Mikleo sighed in resignation, allowing Sorey to push his hands on his body. He brushed his hair out of his eyes. “What was what?”

“I saw something.”

Mikleo sighed in annoyance. “Nothing you were supposed to see. I said not to come in.”

“No, I mean... I saw something else. A vision.”

Mikleo quirked an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, when I touched you. I... was on a boat, on a lake. And it was a beautiful day. I think I had jumped off the boat into the water. I was swimming, and then...” he pawed against Mikleo’s chest. “It faded. But I was there!”

Mikleo swatted Sorey’s hands away from his chest a final time, firmly grabbing his wrists and shaking them free before turning to leave.

“That’s impossible.” Mikleo spoke curtly.

“Whatever you were doing... can you do it again?” asked Sorey.

“Absolutely not!” said Mikleo. “That’s highly inappropriate.”

“But what was that? What did I see?” asked Sorey.

Mikleo pursed his lips, his eyes seething in silence.

“Come on, Mikleo, tell me. I’m dying to know.”

“Damn it, Sorey, I told you not to come in. Why is it so hard to give me some privacy?”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to upset you.” Sorey pouted. “I just heard some noises, and your heart was beating really fast, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I was scared you were hurt.”

Mikleo felt his anger fading.

“Sorey...” he sighed. “I just needed some privacy.”

“But you promised me no secrets,” implored Sorey.

“This is different,” said Mikleo.

“Why? Is something wrong? Are you sick?”

“No. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Then tell me what’s going on.”

Mikleo let out an exasperated sigh. “I’d really rather not.”

“Please, Mikleo,” Sorey begged. “Will you at least tell me why I saw a vision?”

Mikleo pushed past Sorey, leaving the washroom. Sorey followed, watching as Mikleo sat on the edge of the bed, covering his mouth with palms and eyes with his elegant long fingers. Long silver strands of hair draped down, further obscuring his face. Sorey sat by his side, giving his friend a small bit of distance between them.

“Mikleo?” asked Sorey weakly.

“I’m searching for the words,” said Mikleo.

Sorey waited in patience. Finally, he saw Mikleo take a deep breath between his hands.

“Do you ever get hard, Sorey?”

“What do you mean? Like tough?”

“No. I mean between your legs.”

“My... Oh. Oh my,” said Sorey.

Mikleo waited for a response.

“I guess,” said Sorey. “But I remind myself to be pure, and it eventually goes away. But, you told me purity and innocence are different things. Is that still true?”

“It is,” sighed Mikleo. “It’s not impure to indulge in carnal pleasures.”

“Then... is that what you were doing?”

Mikleo paused before answering. “Yes. I was pleasuring myself.”

“Oh.”

They sat in silence for a while longer.

“What about the vision I saw?” asked Sorey.

“That, I don’t understand. Only Seraphim can feel each other’s energies.”

“Is that what that was?” asked Sorey, eyes wide. “Your energies? From your, um, climax?”

“It’s not possible,” said Mikleo. “You’re human.”

Sorey pushed his hands against Mikleo’s back. “Do it again.”

Mikleo twisted angrily away, once again swatting Sorey’s hands off his body before returning them to cover his reddened face. “No, Sorey. That’s inappropriate.”

“Who cares about appropriate,” said Sorey. “I wanna feel it again. You’re my best friend, I don’t care about the rest. You can do it in front of me.”

“Damnit...” said Mikleo. “ I didn’t want this at all. I don’t you to lose your innocence on account of me.”

“It’s a fascinating discovery,” said Sorey unperturbed. “I wanna feel it again.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?” asked Sorey.

“Because it’s totally inappropriate!” snapped Mikleo, finally dropping his hands from his face. “Stop asking!”

“But Mikleo, we share everything.”

“Not this!”

“Why not?” demanded Sorey.

“Only lovers share intimacies like this! We’re not lovers, Sorey!” He snapped.

Sorey pursed his lip, looking away in silence.

_We’re not lovers, Sorey. You don’t love me._

“You have to respect my privacy,” said Mikleo. “I told you no, and that’s that!”

“But it’s an exciting discovery-”

“That you shouldn’t have made! I told you not to come in, you barged in anyway. You don’t care about my boundaries, you never have.” Mikleo stood. “That’s changing right now.” He began rummaging through his dresser for clothes.

“Mikleo, what... What’re you doing?”

“I’m taking a bath. You can shower afterwards.”

“But we usually shower together.”

“Not anymore.”

“But-”

“No buts. You’re not allowed to see me naked anymore.”

Sorey sighed. “But don’t you want to spar first?”

“We don’t have time today now that we’re bathing separately.”

“I don’t like this,” mumbled Sorey.

“You don’t get a choice,” said Mikleo curtly, closing the washroom door behind him, and remembering to lock it this time.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Mikleo stood in front of the cafe booth. He waited for Sorey to slide in the booth first, taking the seat across from him.

“You're not going to sit next to me?” Asked Sorey.

“Give me some space,” mumbled Mikleo, sliding pair of menus from the tabletop in front of each of them. Mikleo stared at the menu he had become overly familiar with, taking the moment to remember how Sorey has leaned against him just last night in the same booth, their arms around each other, doing what couldn't be described in any other way but cuddling.

It was more than he should be doing with a friend.

The waitress came not a moment too soon.

“Good morning, my Lords,” she said. “What'll it be today?”

“The adventurer's breakfast,” said Sorey with far less excitement than previous orders.

“And for you, Grand Seraph?”

“Just a parfait today, thank you,” he said, collecting the menus and handed them to the waitress. She took them with a smile before leaving.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Asked Sorey.

“Not really,” mumbled Mikleo.

They sat in uncomfortable silence for far too long.

“Look, Mikleo... I'm sorry.”

“What for?” asked Mikleo.

Sorey shook his head. “For ever making you uncomfortable. I hate this. We’re supposed to be close.”

“We are close,” he mumbled.

Sorey shook his head. “Doesn’t feel like it now.”

“Why? Because you have to be in my personal space?”

“Mikleo, come on,” said Sorey.

“You said it yourself. It’s not like we’re lovers.”

“No, but still,-”

“So you don’t get to act like we are.”

“You’re not making any sense,” said Sorey. “You said you didn’t care what people thought of us. You agreed with me just yesterday.”

“And today, I’m asking for some space,” he mumbled, folding his arms and looking away.  Despite his regal and elegant appearance, Mikleo’s pouting challenged his age and stature.

The men sat in uncomfortable silence for far too long.

“Your parfait, Grand Seraph,” said the waitress, breaking the silence and sliding a parfait in front of Mikleo. “And for you, Great Shepherd, your Adventurers’ Breakfast.” The waitress smiled at the men before leaving.

“Yesterday you said you didn’t care what people thought, now you won’t even sit next to me,” said Sorey, lifting his fork. “I can’t help but feel like I'm being punished for something I did wrong.”

“The way we were acting yesterday _was_ wrong,” said Mikleo, taking a bite of his parfait. “Friends don’t cuddle with each other like that.” He wrinkled his nose and set down his spoon.

“We weren’t cuddling,” said Sorey, trying to hide his embarrassed face by lowering his head.

“Yes, we were. And it was totally inappropriate.”

“Then so what? I still don’t care what people think. Call it whatever you want, I don’t mind doing it with you.”

“Well I do. You don’t have to be all over me like you were yesterday.”

“I wasn't all over- Ugh! Why do you have to be so frustrating?”

Mikleo grimaced at Sorey’s disappointed face. He pursed his lips, folding his arms.

“It was about time we established some boundaries.”

“Well, your boundaries suck.”

“I don’t care what you think,” said Mikleo.

“Well you should,” said Sorey, folding his arms and pouting.

“Fine, then tell me what’s so bad about them,” said Mikleo.

“Well for starters, we can’t shower together.”

“We never should have been showering together as adults, Sorey.”

“Says who?”

“Sorey...” Mikleo sighed. “That’s something lovers do.” He paused, almost hopeful for a reply, but he knew better. He was unsurprised by Sorey’s silence at the mention of being lovers again. Sorey didn’t want to be lovers. He didn’t even know if Sorey was capable of romantic love. Beyond that, why would Sorey be interested in him? They were friends, and nothing more. He was the one who carried the torch. He grimaced, glancing up, seeing Sorey hanging his head low and quietly pushing his eggs around his plate.

“Finish your food so we can go.”

“Aren’t you going to eat?” mumbled Sorey.

Mikleo stayed silent. He slid the parfait glass forward and leaned back into the worn cafe booth, arms folded, gazing off nowhere in particular.

Soon enough Sorey had finished. He dabbed his mouth with a napkin, sliding out of the booth. Mikleo followed in silence, walking side by side towards the shrine, far apart enough to not be mistaken for lovers, close enough to be just friends.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Mikleo slumped into his waiting chair at the tea table, wrinkling his nose in disdain and leaning back.

“Well good morning to you too!” said Rose.

Mikleo hummed dismissively and narrowed his eyes, staring nowhere in particular. He folded his restless arms to keep from fidgeting.

“Sounds like someone is having a good morning,” said Rose. Mikleo wrinkled his nose and quietly grunted in response. She rolled her eyes, jumping back into the interrupted conversation between herself, Alisha and Lailah.

Mikleo continued to stare off into space, vaguely listening to the words spoken between the three women. What could they say anyway about how he was feeling now? Words of comfort? Not likely. Rose and Alisha would say they told him so. He wasn’t interested in talking to Rose much anyway, not with the way she exposed him yesterday. Lailah would just say something cryptic about patience as if she could actually tell the future.

His thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of a small hand against his arm. He whipped his arm back, startling Alisha who had been trying to get his attention.

“Don’t touch me!” He slid back in his chair, holding his arm as though she had hurt it. “Why’s everyone think it’s okay to touch me?”

“Mikleo, I...” Alisha bit her lip, taken aback. “Is everything alright?”

Mikleo furrowed his brow. He glanced behind him at Sorey. Sorey was seated at the altar as expected, talking quietly with Maotelus between visitors.

“What do you think?” he asked dismissively, turning back around slowly.

“Did you have a fight?” asked Alisha.

“No. Not really.” He shifted in his seat.

“So that’s a yes then?” asked Rose.

Mikleo shot Rose a dirty look.

“Still mad at me for telling the truth last night,” said Rose.

“Thank you _so much_ for springing that on Sorey and I. That conversation was great fun.”

“No need to be rude,” said Rose into her teacup. “He’s going to find everything out anyway.”

Mikleo pursed his lip indignantly, looking away. He glanced at Sorey again, now watching as Maotelus spoke with an older woman. He huffed, looking away somewhere, _anywhere_ else.

“Mikleo, we’re here for you,” said Alisha. “Please tell us what’s wrong.”

Mikleo laid his head on the table, folding his forearms as a pillow. He listened to himself breathe between the ambient sounds of the temple; the chatter of his Vessel and the Fifth Lord, the whispers of the Grand Seraphim beside him, the bustling of the human crowd waiting anxiously for a chance to speak with their Lords.

He sucked in a deep breath.

“It’s not going well between us,” mumbled Mikleo.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Alisha kindly. “From the outside looking in, it seems you two are inseparable.”

“And today I need space.”

“Mikleo,” started Lailah. “You two have a beautiful friendship. I’m sure this too shall pass.”

“Yeah,” mumbled Mikleo. He sat up, leaning back in his chair briefly before standing. “For now, I just- I need a little space, and some time to clear my head.”

“Mikleo, we must remain-” started Alisha

“Yes, yes, a united front, I know,” said Mikleo, turning to Alisha. “I’ll figure something out. I’ll be back.” He sauntered away, heading towards the back of the shrine, his six tailed cloak waving slowly behind him. He felt the eyes of the three women burning into him, tempting him to enact his spectral cloak. He was tempted to run. To leave. Instead he headed further into the shrine. He reached the rear room, resting and leaning against the back wall, facing the resting spot of an enshrined bowl of sacred water.

He leaned his head against the wall, looking up at the plaster ceiling before closing his eyes.

_Where did I go wrong?_

He shut his eyes, drawing in a deep breath before slowly hissing it out. Sorey had only been awake for a matter of days. Mikleo had already let his guard down enough to let himself get close, _physically_ close enough to mistake for more. He had been using Sorey to fuel his own needs, and despite having no complaints there was also no desire from Sorey to be more than _just friends_. And rather than behave rationally or communicate his needs or expectations, he lashed out and pushed him away.

“Trouble in paradise?”

Mikleo hummed, recognizing the owner of the voice as Uno. Without opening his eyes he knew Uno must have been beside him, leaning against the same wall with his arms folded in a manner not unlike his own.

“As though you’re not rooting for my failure,” said Mikleo.

“Hey,” he offered gently. “I know you’ve wanted this for a long time. I do want to see you happy, after all.”

Mikleo stayed silent for a time before finally speaking.

“He caught me this morning.”

Uno hummed. “With someone else?”

“No. Just... myself.” Mikleo bit his lip, uneager to agree that he’d never break Sorey’s heart the way he had broken Uno’s over and over. To Uno, Mikleo was the one that got away. Despite their sordid on and off history, Mikleo just couldn’t sit still long enough to stay in Ladylake or to avoid philandering.

“And he didn’t offer to help?” asked Uno slyly.

“He doesn’t... we don’t have a relationship like that.”

“Ah.” Uno shifted slightly. “Still innocent, I suppose? He was always extraordinarily pure, after all.”

“I can’t be the one to corrupt him,” mumbled Mikleo.

“Then who?”

“I just...” Mikleo peeked his eye open. His hunch was correct. Uno rested against the wall beside him, arms folded and head leaned back. His deep azure bangs framed his delicate, poignant features, the remainder of his hair pulled into a high ponytail not unlike his own. He reminded himself of how much he had learned from Uno, both spiritually and physically.

“He has to figure out how he feels for himself. I won’t push him along. I won’t... I can’t risk him being unhappy.”

“And if you push him into the arms of another?”

His ears burned hot at the idea.

“I want to see him happy, no matter the cost. I’ll let him make his own decision.”

He felt Uno’s gentle hand on his arm.

“And if his decision is you, will you push him away?”

Mikleo huffed. “Of course not! It’s just...” He stepped forward, away from the wall, Uno’s delicate fingertips sliding away from his arm. Mikleo peeked around the corner, catching a glimpse of the three Seraphim women at the tea table before turning back towards Uno. “He’s just not ready. Not now. Not yet. And he’s certainly not ready to handle someone like me. I can’t subject him to that.”

Uno leaned forward, pushing himself away from the wall. He stretched his arms in front of himself before speaking.

“You _were_ always a handful,” said Uno quietly. “Quite a challenge to keep satisfied.”

Mikleo shifted. “Things are different now. I’m not the same hot-headed boy I was in my youth.”

“Then what are you afraid of?” asked Uno.

Mikleo pursed his lips, offering no answer in return.

Uno leaned closer to Mikleo, turning to whisper in his ear.

“I believe you are,” said Uno. “I believe you still need someone to tame you.”

“Stop,” said Mikleo. “We’ve been over this.”

“I’d offer myself for the position, but I know you’re set on waiting for him.” He stepped forward, facing the enshrined bowl of sacred water that had been his vessel for hundreds of years. He turned back to Mikleo, who had his fist to his mouth and eyes narrowed. He appeared to be deep in thought.

“I do have something you could do for me,” said Mikleo.

“Anything for you,” said Uno hopefully.

Mikleo raised his hand, summoning his staff into it. Uno glanced at the staff, then back at Mikleo.

“I’m supposed to be at the table with the other Seraphim,” said Mikleo. A light began to glow under him, ruffling his hair and six-tailed cape. “Fill in for me. Just for today.”

“I can do that for you.”

Mikleo closed his eyes, summoning his seraphic energies into his staff. It glowed briefly before fading. He then flicked his wrist, dismissing the staff in one quick motion.

“Thank you,” said Mikleo. He winked before raising his hand, casting his spectral cloak and vanishing.

Uno smiled to himself. Although he knew there was no chance of anything between them again, he loved nothing more than to remind Mikleo of their times together. He looked down, noticing a familiar set of gold-adorned leather gloves on his hands. He summoned a globe of water, flattening it into a sheet of ice before him, creating a makeshift mirror.

He chuckled to himself, seeing Mikleo’s reflection smiling back at him. It was a strong illusionary art, surely no humans would question that he was Mikleo himself. Uno fluffed his now long and wavy ponytail, dismissing the ice.

He strolled to the tea table and sat in Mikleo’s seat. Rose leaned forward, analytical and suspicious as ever.

“It’s a good disguise,” said Rose. “But where’s Mikleo?”

Uno shrugged. “Let the boy have his space. The illusion will only last a few hours anyway.”

“It’s good to have you join us, Lord Uno,” said Lailah. “Please, have some tea.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Mikleo looked up from the stack of papers on the desk. It had been a long day of lecture, testing and grading. The sun had long since set, the evening sky visible from the classroom windows. He wrinkled his nose, looking back down at the stack of papers to be graded, pulling the next assignment from the pile and beginning to read the student’s essayed work.

He was startled but unfazed by the sound of the classroom door opening. He kept his head lowered, continuing to read and grade, brows furrowed, blinking slowly in annoyance. The door quietly closed followed by the sound of slow, gentle footsteps.

“Uno’s ice cream isn’t as good as yours.”

Mikleo huffed. “Sorey. What’re you doing here?” He kept his head lowered and eyes focused on the student’s paper.

“What are you doing here?” asked Sorey in return. He had an unexpected nervousness to his voice, somewhat solemn and full of unease.

“Grading tests. I’m quite busy.” He flipped the paper he was reading, reaching for his red pen.

Sorey pursed his lips in defeat. He moved to the side of the classroom, running his fingers along the spines of a few of the leatherbound textbooks before choosing one. He brought it to a desk at the rear of the classroom. He flipped through the first few pages and began to read.

Mikleo continued to grade in silence, turning the student’s papers every few minutes and marking each sheet with their scores, notating each student’s progress in the class gradebook. He peeked up, allowing himself a glance at Sorey.

Sorey’s brow was furrowed as he invested himself in the textbook. Mikleo hurriedly looked away for fear of being caught. He returned to the dwindling pile of student papers, plucking another from the stack to be graded.

After completing a few more papers, he glanced back up at Sorey. Sorey had leaned his chin against his hand tiredly. It was peculiar to see Sorey not full of energy, tapping his foot, excitedly pointing out entries. Even the feathers on his ears seemed to have lost their bounce. Mikleo sighed and closed his eyes briefly.

“Why are you working?” asked Sorey quietly.

Mikleo opened his eyes, finally meeting Sorey’s.

“I gave Raine the day off,” he replied.

Sorey’s gaze was heavy and full of guilt. Mikleo stared for what must have been far too long before breaking eye contact and looking back down at his work.

“Can I help?” asked Sorey.

Mikleo shook his head, pulling the next paper from the pile. “It’s fine. I’m nearly done.”

Sorey fell silent once again. Mikleo returned to reading the paper, raising his red pen and marking as necessary.

Finally Mikleo reached the last paper from the stack. He picked it up before being startled by a terrible, shrill squealing. He looked up to see Sorey dragging a chair towards the head of the class, the wood of the chair screaming against the tile floor. Mikleo sighed in resignation as Sorey pushed the chair alongside Mikleo, apprehensively sitting beside him. Sorey’s curious eyes darted between Mikleo and the paper he was trying to read in vain.

“That’s the last one, right?” asked Sorey.

“Yeah.” Mikleo’s voice caught in his throat. He felt Sorey’s eyes burning on him, watching his every move. He read and re-read the student’s first answer, finding it difficult to concentrate with Sorey right next to him.

“Am I bothering you?” asked Sorey, quietly.

“It’s fine. You didn’t have to wait for me, you know.”

“I know. I wanted to.”

Mikleo returned his attention to the paper. He raised his pen once again, marking each answer as necessary and finally entering the student’s final grade into the class gradebook. He organized the stack of student papers, binding them together with a paperclip and clearing the desk. He had hardly slipped the red pen into the desk drawer before feeling an arm snake around his waist. He raised his arms in surprise. Sorey leaned out of his chair and rested his head against Mikleo’s chest.

Mikleo slowly lowered his arms, finding there was no place to put his left arm besides around Sorey. He gently laid his arm around his friend, resting his hand on Sorey’s shoulder. Sorey leaned further into Mikleo, squeezing him closer.

“I’m sorry I upset you this morning. You’re right, I need to respect your privacy.”

“Sorey...” Mikleo sighed deeply, gently squeezing Sorey’s upper arm. “It’s okay. I should be apologizing to you for pushing you away like that.”

He considered for a second telling Sorey everything. How he had set his expectations so high. How he didn’t want to be let down. How he didn’t want to influence Sorey’s thoughts and feelings. What his own feelings were.

He bit his tongue.

“Is this okay?” asked Sorey, squeezing Mikleo tighter.

Mikleo took a deep breath. “Yeah.”

“I missed you today.”

“I missed you too.”

Sorey pulled his arm away from Mikleo, continuing to lean his head against his friend’s arm.

“Can I take you home?” asked Sorey.

“You want to eat first?”

“Yeah.” Sorey sat up straight before standing. Mikleo followed his action, standing and stretching briefly. Sorey looked longingly at Mikleo, as though he had more to say before picking up the wooden chair and returning it to the desk.

“Ready?” asked Mikleo.

“Ready.”

 

 

* * *

 

  


Mikleo slipped into the booth first, Sorey following close behind into the seat across from him.

“You don’t have to sit across from me,” said Mikleo quietly.

“But you told me this morning you wanted space.”

“And I got it. Get over here before I change my mind.”

Sorey politely smiled before switching sides, squeezing in the booth next to Mikleo.

“Does that mean we can re-negotiate this boundaries thing?” asked Sorey hopefully.

“Don’t push your luck.”

“Pity,” said Sorey. “The bed’s so comfortable. Guess you’ll have to find another place to sleep.”

“What- but that- Sorey, it’s my bed! It’s been my bed for 7 centuries!”

Sorey began to laugh. Mikleo quirked an eyebrow before realizing that Sorey was kidding. He chuckled a laugh to himself in disbelief.

“It’s good to see you smile again,” said Sorey.

“You too,” said Mikleo.

  


* * *

 

 

Long after good night and lights out, Mikleo lay in bed awake. He thought back to his uncontrollable thoughts and desires. He was grateful that Sorey stuck by his side. He was kind and patient, at times like this Mikleo wondered if he truly deserved him. He wrinkled his nose, still troubled by his actions. Perhaps it was an effect of the seeds of malevolence in his heart after all. He had no way to sense them himself but he knew they were there, haunting him as remnants and scars of his past. He feared them more than he would admit, feared that they controlled him, feared that they directed him more than he understood.

He took a final peek at Sorey, already fast asleep beside him. Thin beams of moonlight eked through the wooden slats of the blinds, drawing pale stripes across his resting figure. Mikleo closed his eyes. He decided it was time to make a promise. A promise to be patient, both with Sorey and with himself. A promise to be honest to his own needs, and clear with Sorey on his expectations and boundaries. And he promised, begrudgingly, to keep his desires away from Sorey.

At least, until they both were ready.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Heartbeat

“What’s on your mind, Sorey?”

Mikleo peeked over the top of his novel at Sorey. Sorey's brow furrowed as his eyes scanned the pages of the textbook.

“Nothing,” said Sorey.

Mikleo hummed. “You’re wiggling an awful lot for nothing.”

Sorey shuffled his legs. “Am not.”

It had been a few weeks since Sorey’s awakening; they spent most of their days lazing with one another while Sorey caught up on volumes of the Celestial Record.

Mikleo carded his hands through Sorey’s chestnut hair, Sorey warmly leaned his head against Mikleo’s tummy in response. They often read like this nowadays, laying on the bed with Mikleo’s body as Sorey’s pillow, a role reversal from their youth now that Mikleo was the taller one.

“Whatever you say.”

Sorey wrinkled his nose and smiled before furrowing his brow in thought again. Mikleo returned to the novel he was reading. It wasn’t long before Sorey began shifting again.

“Sorey-”

“Sorry, sorry.”

Mikleo huffed a laugh. “What’s making you wiggle so much?”

Sorey hesitated. “It’s... I... nothing.”

Mikleo let out a laugh. “Alright then. What part are you on?”

“I just got to the Edinburgh Ruins.”

“You’re that far in Volume Three?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re reading so fast. You sure you’re paying attention?”

“...Yeah.”

Mikleo hummed, absentmindedly smoothing his palm across Sorey’s forehead and hair. Sorey shifted again.

“What is going on with you?” mumbled Mikleo.

“It’s just...-” Sorey started. “The map of the Edinburgh Ruins seem so expansive and huge.”

“They were dense with hellions at the time,” said Mikleo. “It took many years to purify and document.”

“What kind of Shepherd did you have back then?”

Mikleo pondered for a moment. “I... had several.”

“And they explored the ruins with you?”

“Some. Sometimes I went alone.”

“But that’s dangerous!”

Mikleo smiled. “Maybe so, but as long as I was in a pact I could still purify.” He ruffled Sorey’s hair. “Not all my Shepherds were as interested in exploring ruins as I. Or you, for that matter.”

“But some were, right?”

“Sure, of course.”

“Good. You deserve to be happy.”

Mikleo hummed. “Thanks.”

Sorey fell in silence for another moment. Mikleo apprehensively lifted his book again, scanning to pick up where he had left off.

“Tell me about them?”

Mikleo peered over his book to see Sorey’s piercing emerald eyes gazing up at him. He was caught unaware by the intensity.

“About what?”

“Your Shepherds. The ones that explored with you.”

Mikleo huffed, wrinkling his brow. “There’s too many to count.”

“Then... tell me about your favorites.”

Mikleo raised his fist to his lip curiously. “My favorites?”

Sorey broke his gaze and looked back at the book. “Nevermind. It was a stupid question.”

Mikleo ruffled Sorey’s hair again. “It’s not. Just give me a moment to think. Seven hundred years rewarded me with many memories to sift through.”

Sorey looked back up at Mikleo expectantly, with something new and strange in his expression.

“Let’s see...” Mikleo tapped his chin, having abandoned his novel to the side. “Edinburgh, huh.  I suppose there was Camden, then Harlan... Scarlet... Grayson... No... Hmm... Oh! Vance. Shepherd Vance. He stayed by me the longest during that particular expedition.”

“Shepherd Vance, huh?”

Mikleo nodded. “I’d say a few months. Longer than most in that era.” Mikleo paused. “He was a good Shepherd, the second generation of his family. A strong swordsman.”

“Was he special?”

Mikleo smiled kindly, weaving his fingers through Sorey’s hair. “All humans are special, Sorey.”

Sorey looked back towards his book, clearly not reading. “I mean... was he special to you?”

Mikleo pursed his lip, searching his memory.

“Yes.”

Sorey shifted again.

Mikleo furrowed his brow. This must have been what was bothering Sorey.

“Did you have a lot of... special Shepherds?”

Mikleo paused before answering, meeting Sorey’s gaze, once again aimed towards him. “Yes.”

“What made you choose them?”

Mikleo laughed. “Are you asking why I chose some Shepherds as lovers, Sorey?”

Sorey blushed and looked back to his book. “Sorry. Boundaries.”

Mikleo quirked an eyebrow before picking his novel up from beside him, propping it against his chest. He absently scanned for his place, knowing he was far too distracted by Sorey’s question to concentrate. He gave up, laying the book flat on his chest.

“Sometimes we got along well and took it to the next level. Other times it was purely physical attraction. There’s plenty of reasons. Sometimes it was just... to fill a need.”

Sorey nodded against his tummy, appearing to be engrossed in thought, flipping to the next page of his book. Mikleo shrugged to himself dismissively before returning to his novel. After a while, he felt Sorey rise and sit beside him on the bed.

“I can do that, if you want.”

Mikleo peered over his book, looking curiously at Sorey for a moment before realizing; Sorey’s hand was resting on his upper thigh.

He swallowed.

“Do... what?” asked Mikleo, his mind blanking.

Sorey bit his lip tenaciously and lowered his gaze. Mikleo froze as Sorey’s hand slid higher up his thigh, ruffling the smooth white fabric of his pants.

“You have needs, right?” said Sorey quietly. He lifted his hand and played with the edge of Mikleo’s soft white shirt. His fingertip traced the hem with just enough pressure to avoid tickling his belly, dragging slowly from left to right.

Mikleo was sure his pounding heart was audible.

“Sorey...” said Mikleo quietly.

“You told me it’s not impure. Right?” Sorey’s finger moved to the waist of Mikleo’s white pants, the pad of his finger teasing the elastic band and threatening to slide further down.

Mikleo’s breath caught in his stunned throat, his eyes glued to Sorey’s hand. “...Yeah.”

“I wouldn't mind.” One of Sorey’s knees pushed between Mikleo’s. “I have needs, too.”

Mikleo was blinded. His mind was clouded, his eyelids heavy. His heartbeat clogged his ears. Again his throat was closed, finding it difficult to squeeze out another crushed “...Yeah.”

Sorey’s legs moved to straddling him, carefully and deliberately setting his knees by Mikleo’s thighs.

“So we should...” Sorey trailed off.

The haze around Mikleo’s mind was thick and lustful. He blinked open his eyes, watching his own hands sliding down Sorey’s waist, moving to his rear, pulling his hips firmly towards him.

“Should what?” asked Mikleo through the haze.

Someone, perhaps both of them rolled their hips. Mikleo felt his erect cock rutted against Sorey’s through the constraining fabric of their pants. Mikleo bit his lip hard enough to nearly draw blood, sure he had let out a moan he was too caught up in the moment to remember.

Sorey leaned forward against Mikleo, his breaths deep and heavy, shaking nervously, his lowered bangs tickling Mikleo’s chin. He ran his knuckles along Mikleo’s flank.

“You know what I mean,” stated Sorey playfully. “We should...”

Another rolling of their hips, Sorey’s ass pulled firmly by Mikleo’s grip, another combined gasp and barrage of hard breaths escaping their lips.

“Should what,” asked Mikleo again, more desperately.

“We should... should do... have... make...”

Mikleo stopped. The fog was lifted. He opened his eyes, aware of his actions. He took a deep, ragged breath.

“Stop.”

Sorey sat up straight. They looked at each other, confusion and pain written on their faces.

“You don’t want to?” asked Sorey slowly.

Mikleo pursed his lip. There was nothing he wanted more in the world. But his gut told him the truth.

“This is wrong,” he choked.

“What’s wrong about it?”

Mikleo shoved Sorey off of himself. He moved to stand beside the bed.

“Hey! What...”

“You can’t even say what you’re trying to do,” said Mikleo coldly. “You’re not mature enough to even say it.”

Sorey stood as well, a bewildered look crossing his face.

“Not mature enough?”

Mikleo’s brows furrowed, his mouth hanging open in response.

“Not mature enough?” repeated Sorey, pulling his blue button up over his black undershirt. He moved towards the door.

“Sorey, you know this doesn’t feel right.”

“Don’t talk to me,” said Sorey. “I’m not mature enough.”

“I didn’t say-”

“Don’t,” repeated Sorey, curtly.

Mikleo grabbed his arm. “Sorey, please-”

“Don’t _touch_ me,” said Sorey, wrenching away. Mikleo stepped back, bewildered.

“Can we talk about this?”

Sorey stood in front of the door. He paused, looking back at Mikleo, the pain visible in his eyes.

“About what? That you think I’m an immature child?”

“Sorey, that’s not what I-”

“That because you’ve lived and done so much, that I don’t matter anymore?”

“That’s not true, and you know-”

“That I’m not good enou-”

“SOREY.” Mikleo’s raised voice gave both of them pause. “Would you shut up and listen to me?”

“Why? You think you know better?” said Sorey coldly.

“No, because you don’t understand-”

“Because I’m not mature enough to understand-”

“Would you drop it?”

Sorey shook his head in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable. You think you’re beyond reproach? You’re anything but.”

“Beyond... Do you have a problem with the way I’ve lived my life?”

“I have a problem with the way you treat me,” said Sorey. “I’m leaving.”

“Then go,” threatened Mikleo. “Nothing is holding you here.”

“Fine,” said Sorey.

“Fine.”

The door slammed, and Mikleo was alone.

It took all of thirty seconds before Mikleo regretted his stubborn actions.

He rushed to the balcony, watching for a glimpse of Sorey leaving. He caught back of his blue shirt, headed towards the shrine.

His frustrations boiled to the surface of his mind. He wanted to scream, but couldn’t. Wouldn’t. This is what he wanted for centuries, after all. He prayed for Sorey to desire him and look to him for physical gratification. But it was wrong. He didn’t want Mikleo’s heart. There was no emotion behind his actions, just desire, lust and hormones. They hadn’t even kissed before Sorey straddled him, and he felt his...

At least now Mikleo had reassurance that Sorey was a red-blooded human after all.

Mikleo wrinkled his nose. No. He was far more than that, so much more. He disappointed himself by pushing his brutish hands all over Sorey. By forcing his perverted agenda. He had just promised to himself to keep his desires from Sorey for fear of being controlled by malevolence; he felt like a failure for already pushing beyond what he himself had agreed to.

Something deep within Mikleo yearned, reaching for Sorey. It hung carefully in the balance before he felt an unexpected reaction, as though reaching for him had somehow caused a response. He felt a change in pressure, a shift before noticing a careful, rhythmic sound playing in the background of his mind.

It took several confused cycles of the sound before Mikleo recognized it.

_Sorey’s heartbeat._

Was this part of their oath? It must have been, he had never heard any other Shepherd or Vessel’s heartbeat in his head before, not without his essence firmly planted in their vesselspace. It must have been part of their connection. Mikleo laid on the bed, concentrating on bringing the sound of Sorey’s safe heartbeat to the forefront of his mind, lulling his frustration, coaxing him to relaxation and eventually, to sleep.

  
  


* * *

 

  


Mikleo woke in the late evening hours. He blinked his eyes open, the slow, rhythmic heartbeat still playing quietly at the back of his mind.

“Sorey?” he called.

No answer.

He got up from the bed, pulling his coat on and leaving the tower. He followed the sound of the heartbeat, affirming that Sorey had in fact headed towards the shrine earlier in the afternoon.

He pushed the shrine doors open as quietly as he could. He spotted Sorey on the altar, sitting upright and leaned against Maotelus, both asleep with their heads leaned back and mouths open.

Mikleo stepped towards the altar, whispering a quiet prayer to the Lords. He knelt with his head prostrated to the ground in silence for a time, before being interrupted by a small voice.

“He’s still scared of you, you know.”

Mikleo jolted up. Maotelus yawned, careful not to move.

“Is he okay?” asked Mikleo, keeping his voice quiet.

“He’s fine.” Maotelus kept the same hushed tone.

“Did he tell you what happened?”

“Only what he wanted to share.”

“I was harsh on him.”

“He just doesn’t know where he went wrong.”

“Neither do I, most days.” Mikleo wrinkled his face in pain. “He doesn’t love me, Maotelus.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“You know what I mean.” Their eyes met.

“He does care for you, though.”

“I know.” Mikleo sighed. “But it’s not enough.  I’m selfish.”

Sorey took a deep breath, squinting his eyes before opening them groggily. He faltered against the altar briefly, alarmed by Mikleo’s kneeling presence in front of him.

“Sleep well?” asked Mikleo.

“What do you think,” said Sorey.

“Doesn’t look very comfortable.” Mikleo looked to Maotelus. Maotelus shrugged. Seraphim were akin to sleeping anywhere, from rivers to stones to treetops, altars weren’t out of the question.

“What’re you doing here?” asked Sorey.

“I was hoping we could talk.”

Sorey looked at Mikleo’s pleading eyes before nodding slowly and giving in. He turned and pressed his forehead against Maotelus’ in goodbye, stood and headed out, Mikleo in tow.

The late night was quiet, the hour far later than anyone dared to wander. Mikleo took the first few steps in front of the shrine before sitting. Sorey apprehensively followed, sitting nearby on the same step.

“You’re free. You don’t have to stay with me.”

“I know that.”

“No, Sorey. I mean it. I asked you to live with me because I thought...” Mikleo sighed. “I thought it would be a good idea. But we have awful fights, and I feel like I’m trapping you. So you’re free. You can go.”

“But it’s home,” said Sorey.

“You can live anywhere in the world,” said Mikleo.

“I want to live with my best friend.”

Mikleo looked up at Sorey. Their eyes met for a brief, painful moment before Mikleo broke away. He heard Sorey’s heartbeat quicken, the sudden rush of emotion tangible like a cheat code playing in his mind.

“I’m sorry I called you immature.”

“It’s not untrue,” said Sorey, as though he was expecting that response.

“It’s not fair for me to say,” said Mikleo. “We had the same upbringing. I just had a lot more time in the outside world. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“...But what you said about me hurt.”

Sorey remained silent.

“Sorey, when I was younger, I had a problem. An addiction.”

Sorey nodded slowly.

“It’s not simple to understand. But I need you to know. I was self destructive and did things I shouldn’t have. I lost... control of myself.”

“I know, Mikleo.”

“No, you don’t- you don’t understand the extent. I wasn't well. I did whatever it took to get what I wanted. To get a rush. I twisted the truth. I pushed myself past my limits. I partied irresponsibly, I did whatever drugs were offered, and drank to excess. I was- I was not myself.”

“Mikleo, it’s okay.”

“I felt that loss of control, Sorey. Today. I wasn’t in control of myself.”

Sorey’s eyes met Mikleo’s.

“I don’t know if it’s the malevolence in me. I don’t know if that’s just who I am. And I’m scared, I’m scared that it is, I’m scared that I’ll never be able to control myself and I’ll hurt the people closest to me. I’ll hurt you.”

Sorey nodded in sympathy, but not quite in understanding.

“That’s why I need your help. I need you... I’ve always needed you to keep me on the right track.” He laughed to himself. “You see how well I did without you.”

He felt Sorey’s arm sliding comfortably behind him. Although he felt as though he didn't deserve to, he leaned into it as he always had.

“You’ve accomplished great things,” said Sorey. “We’ve all done things we regret.”

Mikleo looked at him incredulously. “And what do you regret, Sorey?”

Sorey pursed his lips. “I... Uh....”

Mikleo chuckled. “Mister beyond reproach himself.”

Sorey gently shoved Mikleo. Mikleo shoved back. They smiled and laughed with each other for a brief moment before Mikleo shrank back into himself, his eyes glued to the ground.

“It’s just like old times,” said Sorey. “You and me, back in Elysia.” He looked up at the stars, leaning against Mikleo.

Mikleo apprehensively leaned against Sorey in return. “How so?”

“We used to argue a lot back then. Except...”

“Except what?”

“Our fights used to last longer.”

“Do you really think so?” asked Mikleo. “Perhaps now we have resources and libraries to prove theories and conjecture-”

“No, that’s not it,” said Sorey.

Mikleo looked at him expectantly. Sorey glanced down at his hands, his two pointer fingers pushed nervously together.

“You apologize a lot quicker nowadays.” He looked back up at Mikleo, searching his face for a reaction. “I think you used to be a lot more stubborn.”

Mikleo looked up at the stars, taking in the observation. He nodded slowly, not quite in agreement.

“But now, you’re wise and patient. And I really look up to that.”

Mikleo huffed an embarrassed laugh. “Sorey...”

“You really did grow a lot without me. You were right, I am immature.” He looked back down at his hands, now draped lazily over his knees. “It must be tough to put up with me sometimes. Compared to you, I...” He paused. “I’m just a kid.”

Mikleo blinked a few times in confusion before instinctually pulling Sorey towards himself, squeezing him into a tight embrace. Sorey was confusedly tense. Mikleo pushed his lips against the crown of Sorey’s head.

“Never, ever say that.” said Mikleo, nuzzling against his hair. “You’re just as old as I am.”

“Yeah but...”

“Don’t.” A few moments of silence passed. “When you asked about my favorite Shepherds, I should have said you. No one has ever been more special.”

“Not in seven hundred years?”

“Not in seven hundred years.”

Sorey seemed to relax under Mikleo’s tightly squeezed arms.

“Thanks.”

Mikleo hummed.

“There’s no rush, you know.”

“I know but...” Sorey pushed gently away from Mikleo’s embrace, pushing his forehead against his shoulder. Mikleo let his arms fall back to his sides. “I was talking to Maotelus. And I’m- we’re both getting, uh, restless.”

“Oh?”

“He wants to go to Pendrago soon. It’s too small here for him to take his true form.”

Mikleo nodded. “The Shrinechurch should be ready to receive him anytime.”

“So I figure,” Sorey continued, “After I finish reading the Celestial Records, we can escort him there.”

“Of course,” said Mikleo.

Sorey pulled back from Mikleo and searched his eyes. “When we do, we...” He glanced away briefly before locking eyes determinately again. “We shouldn't come back.”

Mikleo nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

Mikleo broke into a gentle smile. “Of course it’s okay. I’ve been waiting for you to tell me when you’re ready to start adventuring. It’s our dream, after all.” He held up his fist between them. “Although, I will want to come back and check in from time to time.”

Sorey grinned, lifting his own fist and pressing his wrist gently against Mikleo’s.

“It’s a promise.”

“Then it’s settled,” said Mikleo, standing and brushing the dust from his legs. “It shouldn’t take you more than a few more weeks at most. You’re most of the way through Volume Three as is.” He smiled, as he recognized the subtle quickening of Sorey’s heartbeat. He paused, watching as Sorey stood beside him.

“Sorey, have you...” Mikleo pursed his lips.

“Have I what?”

Mikleo blushed, looking away.

“My heartbeat.”

“What about it?”

“You can hear it, right?”

Sorey grinned. “Ever since I made the oath.”

Mikleo hummed.

“You tell me a lot through it.”

“Shut up.”

“You didn’t know?”

“I just found out.”

“Today?”

Mikleo pursed his lips before shoving Sorey gently again.

“I can always hear it, except when you’re in my vesselspace. It’s how I know you’re safe, no matter where you are.”

Mikleo wrinkled his brow and squinted as though he had been wounded.

“Is... that okay?” asked Sorey.

Mikleo smiled, looking up and meeting Sorey's eyes.

“Yeah.” He nudged his shoulder against Sorey. Sorey grinned in return.

“Let’s go home?” he asked.

“Let’s go home,” agreed Mikleo.

In that moment, he felt himself slipping further in love.

  
  
  
  



	8. Moments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Sorry for taking so long! This is a 9 part chapter of moments before the journey can begin. There are a few OCs in this chapter to move the story along, don't worry about remembering any of them. Thank you all so much for your patience and support!

“And you're sure this is safe?”

Mikleo raised an incredulous eyebrow at Sorey’s question. He rolled his shoulders before summoning his staff, raising it into offensive position.

“I'm going to attack in 5 seconds,” he responded.

Sorey gulped, raising his sword in a blend of apprehension and determination. The netted seal sparkled around him, a honeycomb framework of protection. _May man, beast or force of nature find you untouchable._ That was the promise, at least.

It was the first time Sorey agreed to spar with artes. He had suggested it, in fact, to Mikleo’s surprise. Mikleo had eagerly agreed, exposing what Sorey must have already understood; their training sessions were not fully challenging or exercising Mikleo’s depth of power.

They circled around each other briefly before Mikleo released a barrage of frozen lances. Sorey’s reaction was quick, as though he hadn’t missed a step despite resting for seven centuries. He successfully dodged and parried all but one. The stray lance collided with his flank, the seal flashing brightly where it had absorbed the attack. Sorey glanced at his side and grinned at the effectiveness of the seal before determination crossed his face once more. He bolted forward with ease, closing the gap between them and attacking with a sword rain arte.

Mikleo narrowly dodged and lept backwards, creating space between them. He began a longer cast, finding himself interrupted by Sorey’s dragon fang attack.

“You’re not going all out,” called Sorey.

Mikleo narrowed his eyes and vanished. Sorey raised his sword in defense, rotating slowly, looking for signs of his sparring partner. He furrowed his brows in concentration, listening and watching for hints. Then, from behind him he sensed the attack; Mikleo’s aqua serpent roaring towards him. He pivoted and thrust his fist forward.

“Lion’s Howl!”

Their attacks collided, dissipating into mist and steam. Mikleo gave him a pleased look before sidestepping and casting a quick splash attack. Sorey ducked to dodge the attack and rebalanced himself, carefully monitoring his own timing as Mikleo moved to create more distance between them. Mikleo had hardly started a cast before Sorey was on top of him with a phantasm flash. Mikleo leaned backwards to dodge the attack, narrowly avoiding their collision.

“Come on!” said Sorey. “Fight to win!”

Mikleo narrowed his eyes again, pivoting backwards. He tapped his staff on the floor, summoning two large ice reavers from the Earth below Sorey. Sorey danced backwards to avoid them. It was impossible to miss the second set, or the third. Stunned by the attack, he found himself unable to move.

“That’s more like it! Give me all you’ve got!”

Mikleo rose into the air, creating illusionary duplicates of himself surrounding the arena, well disguising his true self and began a long cast, the action mimicked by each illusion. Sorey struggled to free himself. After a moment, the ice surrounding his feet finally shattered. He windstepped to the illusions, upper cutting each with a tiger blade before descending briefly, systematically destroying each one. Either he had chosen poorly or Mikleo had undetectably switched positions with the illusions, as he was the only one left as his long cast finished. Sorey had nothing left to do but shield himself from the attack, crossing his arms in front of himself and blocking to the best of his ability.

As Mikleo’s violet storm hit he noticed a peculiar shimmering, a hexagonal flutter of light ensconcing Sorey in a wide half-sphere. It was more than the seal, something iridescent and bright blocked his attack before fading, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. The seal absorbed the remainder of the attack, yet Sorey fell onto his back with a thump. Mikleo descended, dismissing his staff and running to his friend, kneeling beside him. His touch dispelled the seal from both of them, disappearing in a netted flash of light.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, turning and smiling towards his friend. “Didn’t hurt a bit.”

Mikleo chuckled. “Guess I won this one.”

“Took you long enough to go all out.”

Mikleo smirked. “What was that at the end there?”

“What was what?” Sorey tried to push himself up, but found himself unable to. Mikleo’s expression changed from playfulness to concern. He instinctively pushed a healing spell through Sorey, who let out a low groan.

“You shouldn’t be hurt,” mumbled Mikleo. He ran his fingers through Sorey’s hair, dancing his fingertips across his forehead. “I think...” He paused. “Hold on.”

“I feel really tired,” said Sorey. He leaned his head backwards.

Mikleo unbuttoned Sorey’s belt pack, rummaging for a moment before pulling back a gel. He hastily peeled it, bringing it to Sorey’s mouth.

“Eat this.”

Sorey obliged, trying to curiously crane his neck to see what was offered before blindly trusting and opening his mouth. He chewed for a moment, then furrowed his brow in confusion.

“This is orange!” he said, sitting up.

“But you feel better?” said Mikleo curiously, scooting backwards and giving Sorey some space.

Sorey nodded and holded his head briefly.

“I don’t believe it. My theory was right,” said Mikleo.

“What... theory?” asked Sorey, shaking his head and looking towards Mikleo.

“I... I’ve felt it.” Mikleo touched his hand to Sorey’s heart. “When I’m here.”

“Felt what?”

“The light,” said Mikleo. “I thought it was just traces left behind.”

Sorey put his hand over Mikleo’s. “From Maotelus?”

“I know your vessel was light-touched. But here you are, casting Seraphic artes-”

“What?” Sorey stood rapidly, holding his hands in front of himself. “Oh man, this is great!”

“Sorey-”

He moved his hands outward. Nothing happened.

Mikleo snickered into his fist. “Sorey.”

Sorey pulled his hands to his chest, then pushed them outwards again.

“Uh... little help?”

Mikleo snorted before laughing into his fist again. “Sorey.”

Sorey finally turned to Mikleo, a quizzical look on his face.

“It’s going to take time and practice to harness these powers, if you have them. Whatever you did do exhausted your mana pool.” Mikleo shook his head. “It’s incredible you have one at all.”

“How do I get more mana?” He rummaged in his pack, finding another orange gel. “Should I eat a certain number of-”

“Time,” he repeated, holding his hand over Sorey’s, pushing the gel back down towards his pack. “And practice.”

“Can we practice more now?”

“A moment ago you were on the floor, you want to do that again?”

“Seraphic artes!” Sorey laughed, looking at the backs of his outstretched hands again. “Man, can you imagine? This would have been so helpful, back when we fought-”

Sorey stopped. He looked up and met Mikleo’s eyes.

What was unsaid hung between them. _It might have been useful, but nothing could change what had to be done. That Sorey had to weaponize his friends with Siegfried to sever the connection between Heldalf and Maotelus. That in doing so, he severed Mikleo from his own body, not knowing whether or not it would kill him, or the rest of their friends._

It wasn’t something they had discussed since.

“After breakfast we can talk to Maotelus,” said Mikleo quietly, breaking the silence. “We can train more tomorrow.”

Sorey nodded, biting his lip then looking away. “Sorry. Guess I got carried away.”

“It is exciting,” said Mikleo, raising his hands and dissipating the ice walls of the arena. “I remember when I was first learning how to control my own artes.” He smiled gently. “I’ll help you any way that I can. There’s a lot more to it than just waving your hands.” He began to walk away, leaving the arena.

“You coming?”

Sorey caught up quickly, walking behind Mikleo. After a brief moment, he spoke.

“Hey, do you think that maybe if you and I armatize, that I could use your shared mana pool?”

Mikleo sighed. “I’ll consider it. Tomorrow.”

“Okay!” said Sorey excitedly.

Mikleo bit his lip, holding back a smile.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Mikleo blinked his eyes open. A book rested atop his chest, his head halfway hung off the side of the bed. It had been so long since he had taken a lazy afternoon nap, the warm sunlight filtering through the slats of the wooden blinds. He tilted his head upward to see Sorey at the desk, reading intently.

There was great peace and comfort now that Sorey was awake. He’d been back for a few weeks, and although he no longer felt the anxiety of waiting for something to happen, it was still something that took getting used to. He could now have lazy days like this, just keeping his friend company in their home. A smile grew on his face at the thought. He watched Sorey, brows furrowed and knee bouncing, his attention fully invested in his book.

“Whatcha reading about?” asked Mikleo.

Sorey reacted in surprise, shutting the book and raising his knee in defense.

“Nothing!”

Mikleo quirked an eyebrow, noticing the book did not quite sit flat.

“Nothing?” pressed Mikleo. “That’s an awful big book to read about nothing.”

Sorey glanced down. “It’s uh, Volume Four. Sorry, I was just, uh, really into it and I thought you were asleep.”

_Sorey, you’ve always been a terrible liar._

“Really? What part are you on?”

“Uh,” stammered Sorey, pushing his pointer fingers together. “It’s uh, there’s a ruin, and uh...”

Sorey was focused too deeply on fabricating a story to notice the Mikleo on the bed he was speaking to was an illusory arte. He was startled to see Mikleo, the real Mikleo reaching his hand along his right, flipping open the book, and exposing the second, smaller paperback that hid between the pages.

_‘Violet Eyes for the Shepherd,’_ read the title of the book.

“Oh.”

Sorey looked away, his face reddened.

“It’s smut,” said Mikleo quietly.

A tense silence hung between them.

“Just...” Sorey quietly spoke. “Pass your judgment.”

Mikleo drew his hand back. He turned to face the window, the thick blinds obscuring his view.

_This is what you think of me, someone who will pass judgment on you? Punish you?_

Mikleo took a moment to think before responding.

“How could I, when it’s part of my own collection?”

Sorey took a moment before responding as well. “I’m just trying to learn.”

“I know. I know you are. But this book, it’s... you and I are characters in it, do you understand?”

Sorey stayed silent, the crimson on his face deepening as his shoulders curled further into himself.

“I can’t be here when you read that,” said Mikleo. He ran his fingers down the long strands of his silvery hair, anxious. The obvious answer hung in the silence between them. He moved to the entry closet, pulling on his cloak first, then his boots.

“Mikleo, you don’t have to-”

“It’s fine. I’m always around, it just never... you need your privacy. I understand.”

Sorey hid his head in his hands.

“I’ll be back in four hours,” said Mikleo, opening the door to leave.

“Two hours,” said Sorey meekly.

Mikleo huffed a small laugh to himself. “Three,” he responded. “And I’ll bring back some dinner.”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


_“What would you do if I turned into a hellion?”_

_“Go back to sleep, Mikleo.”_

_The humid night air in Rodine weighed thick with malevolence._

_“You’re a worthless Seraph anyway.”_

_Mikleo swallowed, staring at the ceiling of the small cottage. The words echoed in his skull._

_“You’ve always been worthless. Pathetic. Disgusting.”_

_No, he thought, unable to speak. It’s not true._

_“Unloveable.”_

_No._

_“You can’t be purified.”_

_No. I can fight it._

_“There’s no use. You’re scarred. Tainted, now and forever.”_

_No, he thought, as the pinpricks began. I can fight this. I can fight..._

_He felt a clawed hand close around his throat, the sharp talons pressing against his windpipe, panic rising as he couldn't breathe. The malevolence grew heavier, thick as molasses. His own hands flailed to pull it away, the pinpricks elevating to the all too familiar pain of his skin folding on itself, sharp scales punching through his flesh. His hands, his own now monstrous paws struggled to clamp against the hand choking him, his body pushed forward by the unfurling of his own leathered wings. The attacker moved back, his vivid bluish-green eyes slitted and narrowed._

_“There’s no one to save you now.”_

_The fist dragged him upward, his flailing body dangling, his ragged wings struggling to flutter._

_“No!” he managed to scream. He continued to struggle as the demon drew close to him, his claw squeezing down on Mikleo’s windpipe, dragging him back to the ground._

_“There’s no escaping your fate,” he cooly said. “I should have killed you long ago.”_

_“No,” cried Mikleo. “No, please, no...”_

_...kleo? Mikleo?_

“Mikleo?”

Mikleo bolted upwards in bed in a cold sweat, instinctually summoning his staff and swinging it outwards towards the intruder in his bed.

_The intruder in his bed..._

As the fog lifted he understood there was no intruder, there was no threat. It was just a dream. The only person in his bed was was Sorey, defenseless, his staff pressed firmly against his neck.

“Mikleo, easy, it’s okay. It’s just me.”

Mikleo’s ragged breath was the only sound in the room. He began to shake, dropping and dismissing his staff. He covered his face with his hands.

“Oh Gods,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” said Sorey. “I shouldn’t have woken you up like that.”

“I hurt you,” said Mikleo, pulling his knees tightly towards his body, rocking back and forth. “I hurt you.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Mikleo felt Sorey’s arm wrap behind him, holding him. He pushed back the tears, hiding the strong desire to cry and release the building tension behind his eyes. Sorey leaned into his movements, closing both arms around him and letting them rock together. He felt Sorey lean forward and plant a kiss on the crown of his head, an action that Sorey had never reciprocated before. He slowed his quickened breaths and found himself calming down.

“Bad dream, huh?”

He nodded. Sorey squeezed him tighter.

“Sorry about waking you up like that. You were yelling and moving a lot, so I started shaking you. I... guess it wasn’t the best way to do it.”

“Sorry for making you worry,” Mikleo mumbled.

Sorey shook his head, pressing it against Mikleo’s shoulder. “I couldn’t let you suffer. Not even if it wasn’t real.”

They rocked together for a few more minutes before Sorey spoke again.

“Feeling better?”

“I hurt you.”

Sorey half-laughed. “It’s fine. You didn’t hurt me.”

Mikleo gently pushed Sorey away and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Sorey carefully drew his arms back.

“I can’t be... I’m going to hurt you again.”

“No, Mikleo, it’s because of the way I woke you.”

“I can’t... You’re the one person I can’t...” The tears he had held back couldn’t be stopped. They silently fell, gathering on his chin and raining large droplets onto his knees.

This is who he was now. War scarred and carrying the seeds of malevolence. Next to Sorey, this delicate human made him more aware than ever of his frailty. He had been an instrument to purification, a tool of war for so long. The war was over, and yet he was ready to eliminate any threat that came at him, even while asleep. He continued training. And he wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t. Anything could change, at any time.

Sorey bumped his shoulder against his. He looked up, now aware that Sorey had sat beside him on the edge of the bed.

“Let me help, Mikleo,” said Sorey. “Sleep here tonight. I’ll protect you.” Sorey touched his hand to his heart.

Mikleo considered it, turning the idea over in his head. He hated sleeping in his Shepherds, making rare exceptions throughout the centuries. But Sorey had always been his favorite place. It would protect Sorey physically, but he would have to bear the burden of any lingering emotion too powerful to conceal. And the emotions from the dream, though fading, haunted him with their truth.

“I...” Mikleo grimaced. “I can’t run away from who I am,” he said softly. “I have to face this.”

Sorey nodded, then leaned his head against his shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Mikleo turned away. He thought before nodding in the quiet darkness.

“I was back in Rodine. With Oscar.”

He felt Sorey nodding against his shoulder.

“I... he... I was a hellion, and he was... he tried to kill me.”

Sorey nodded again in understanding.

“He told me I was worthless. I’d be tainted forever, and that I deserved... I deserved to die.”

“That’s horrible. I’m so sorry.”

“He said no one would save me. And you know what? He was right. In the end, I... I had to save myself when he...”

“Never again,” said Sorey. “He’s gone. You’re safe, now and always. I’ve sworn an oath to protect you. But I’d protect you anyway, without it.”

Sorey stood for a moment, then returned with a hand towel. Mikleo thankfully took it, dabbing his eyes.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

Sorey laughed. “You’re joking, right?”

Mikleo looked up at his smiling friend.

“I’ve never known a day without you,” said Sorey. “You’ve always, always been there for me. Even when I was asleep, you were out there fighting for me. You’re the best friend I could ever ask for.”

Mikleo sighed, dabbing his eyes again. Hopefully they would stay dry.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. You’d do the same for me.”

Mikleo nodded. He pulled his legs back onto the bed, pulling the blanket over his body. The bed bounced and blankets shuffled as Sorey joined him.

“Sorey?”

“Yeah?”

Mikleo let out an uncharacteristic whine.

“You alright?”

“Will you...” He spoke quietly. “Hold me?”

Another few moments of shuffling, and he felt Sorey’s strong arm closing in around him.

“Tell me if you get too warm,” said Sorey.

“Thanks.”

Sorey reached up and tucked a stray lock behind Mikleo’s ear.

“And I know you don’t like me to say it, but... I’m going to find a way.”

“To purify me?”

“Yeah.”

A shuddered breath, and a nod of agreeance. Sorey’s arm moved back down, his open hand pressing against Mikleo’s heart.

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


“Concentrate. Draw from the Earthpulse.”

Their shared form sat cross legged in the center of the ice-walled arena, breathing deeply. Mikleo had relinquished all control, only serving to empower and guide Sorey. He felt Sorey take a deep breath, and pull.

Normally their flow of power, their draw came easily through the Earthpulse from Amenoch, so long as Mikleo was guiding them. Without Mikleo’s guidance Sorey was free to explore spiritually, free to connect to the link Maotelus had created. He felt Sorey’s pull, his yearning and desire to wield the light, drawing from the boy-God, his power flowing from the Earthpulse despite his physical presence only a few buildings over.

“Steady,” echoed Mikleo.

“I’m trying,” their voices responded aloud. “I’m... I can’t!”

The light slipped through their grasp, silken threads unable to catch on their fingertips.

“You can do this, Sorey. I believe in you.”

A few more deep breaths.

“I had it, did you feel?”

“I did. Keep trying.”

“Am I using a lot of your mana?”

“Our mana. And the pool runs deep.”

“Okay. I just don’t want to hurt you. Us.”

Mikleo’s smiling warmth passed over them. “Nothing to worry about,” he echoed. “You’re doing great. Your best attempt all week. Now, concentrate.”

They nodded firmly. They took a few more deep breaths before thrusting their hands outwards, palms forward. They felt the reach, the pull deep into the Earthpulse, searching for something to connect with, a thread to hold on to. It held, lingering, unanswered for a matter of moments, as long as Sorey could hold before his head bowed and arms dropped. Mikleo felt Sorey’s frustration blossoming through his wilting determination.

“You’re doing great,” echoed Mikleo. “What you’re trying to do is beyond the scope of humans. It’s not going to be easy.”

“I know,” their voices responded in unison. “It’s just frustrating that I did it on accident before.”

“You’ve made good progress this session,” Mikleo echoed. “It’s been a couple hours. You want to grab some breakfast?”

He felt Sorey’s stubborn affirmation, then the separation of the armatus. Mikleo stood first, offering a hand to help Sorey stand. Sorey took it begrudgingly, but gratefully.

“It’s just so simple when we’re armatized,” started Sorey. “We can pull from Amenoch so easily.”

“It wasn’t always easy,” said Mikleo.

“I know, I know, you’ve said that. I just... I want to be there already.” He turned to Mikleo. “With you, the connection is so strong. All we have to is will it.”

Mikleo wrinkled his nose. “There is more to it than that,” he responded.

“Yeah?”

Mikleo looked to the sky. “The threads you struggle to feel now will become bonds, strong and unbreakable. Like water to a tap, my element flows on command, primed to wield. And if I desire more, I ask. I pray, and know what I take, I must give. I understand Amenoch, the serene yet dangerous nature of my element, the emotion and the role I play in keeping balance.” He paused. “With other elements, it’s different. The feeling, the pull does not come naturally. it takes deep concentration; I ask and give far more than I can receive. Does... any of that make sense?”

“Yeah,” said Sorey. “But you think I could have that, with Maotelus?”

Mikleo nodded. “I do. I’m happy to help and continue our sessions, and I wish I could guide you further... but perhaps it would do you well to train with him.”

Sorey smiled. “I did spend seven hundred years with the guy. He could give me a few pointers.”

Mikleo chuckled. “Then we’ll pay him a visit. Until then, breakfast?”

“Breakfast. And thanks.”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


“Earth to Mikleo, you there?”

Mikleo loosened his furrowed brow. He blinked at the nectarine in his hand, realizing he had been staring at it intently for some time.

“I can’t recall nectarines in Elysia when Sorey was there,” he said. He broke his gaze with the fruit to turn and smile. “Good morning, Rose. Thanks for meeting me here.”

“Well good morning to you too!” She smiled. “Picking fruit for Sorey?”

A light blush crossed Mikleo’s face.

“Hello sir?” he said, getting the attention of the grocer working the fruit stand.

“Ah, good morning, Grand Seraph. What can I help you with?”

“Good morning! I’ll take these two. And how are the strawberries this time of year?”

“Peak of the season. Shall I fetch you a box?”

“Please, if you would be so kind.” He exchanged a handful of coin for a small bag of fruit.

“Shall we?” he said, turning to Rose.

“My my,” she said. “You’re in a lovely mood this morning.”

“I’ve got nothing to complain about,” he strolled slowly through the marketplace, taking note at the different carts and wares.

“So things are going well with Sorey?”

He nodded. “I’d say so. We should be leaving in a matter of a week, maybe two at most.”

“You guys bone yet?”

Mikleo sputtered and turned bright red. “Wha- Rose! No!”

She started laughing. “I’m just bustin’ your chops! Although...” her look became pensive. “There is something more, isn’t there? You can’t hide from the winds.”

Mikleo sighed, his shoulders heaving forward. “He... tried to.”

“What?! So he’s into it! That’s great!” She elbowed him. “But... what do you mean tried?” she asked, tapping her chin.

“I told him no.” Mikleo clutched his arm, looking away. “It wasn’t right.”

Rose’s expression turned to incredulous surprise. “But that’s what you wanted, why would you turn him down?”

“It’s... complicated.”

“What about you isn’t?” she asked, elbowing him and earning a small smile, which quickly became a frown as he looked towards the floor.

“I just- I need him to tell me he loves me first.”

“Ah Mikleo, ya big softie.” She elbowed him again, earning a whine.

“I mean it. I can’t mess this up.”

“You’re sure you’re not down to do things in the wrong order? I mean, one night with you should have him falling head over heels.”

“While I appreciate the compliment, that’s not an option.” He clutched his arm tighter. “I almost lost control.”

“How so?” asked Rose.

He shut his eyes tightly. “You know I didn’t return from the sea the same man.” His next words were softer yet. “He’s the one person I can’t hurt. I won’t risk it.”

Rose pursed her lip. When he had finally returned, it was with a promise from Maotelus that his work was complete, the final cost totalling the weight of darkness in his heart. They had spent countless evenings in purification rituals ending in tears and frustrations. Rose, Lailah and Alisha had been at the center of it, and truly understood how deeply embedded in his heart the seeds of malevolence weighed on his psyche.

“Okay, Mikky,” she said softly. “You wanna check out the bakers cart?”

He nodded, an honest smile returning to his face. “I promised I’d bring back cookies.”

“I’m gonna miss you,” she said.

“We’ll visit,” he said.

“Not often enough,” she replied.

  
  


 

* * *

  
  
  
  


_His hands moved slowly, palms dragging upwards against his chest. Fingertips reached the zipper at the center, catching it between his fingers._

_“I...” Mikleo started._

_“Shh,” said Sorey. “Let me.”_

_Mikleo leaned his head back into the pillow. He felt the slow clicking, the teeth of the zipper separating from one another, dragging downwards until his jacket splayed open. Sorey’s warm hands wandered to push the jacket apart before he began unbuttoning his undershirt, starting from the bottom most button. The only sound in the air was the soft shuffle of fabric, their combined, weighted breaths and the pound of their pulses. His now bare chest rose and fell in anticipation, bathed by soft evening light. One nipple, pert between his fingers, the other between his lips. His back arched, a soft moan escaped. A hum in satisfaction as lips wandered further down his body._

_A pause, hands dragging across his ticklish flank and teasing the waist of his pants. He squirmed and let out a soft sound of pleasure as the confident hands tugged his pants down in a firm motion, exposing his hard cock. Hands smoothed the skin around it, teasing, tickling. Sorey lowered his gaze, separated his lips and moved forwards, preparing to make contact with-_

“-kleo? Mikleo, wake up.”

Mikleo opened his eyes and laid still. He felt the weight of Sorey’s arm across his chest, holding his opposite arm in the darkness. He breathed slowly, attempting to lower his racing pulse.

“Sorey... Why’d you wake me?”

Sorey pushed his forehead into Mikleo’s shoulder. “You were thrashing and making all sorts of

noise. I didn’t want you to have another bad dream.”

Mikleo nodded slowly, making a waking sound deep in his throat. Frustration welled in his heart. He wanted to be back in the dream.

“Are you okay?” continued Sorey, looking up and trying to make eye contact despite the lack of light.

“Yeah,” Mikleo responded, almost too quickly.

“You sure? You seem tense.”

Mikleo turned his body, facing away from Sorey. He shifted his legs, grimacing at the feeling of the small wet spot at the tent of his hard cock.

“Sorry for worrying you,” he grumbled.

Sorey hummed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“About what?”

“Your dream.”

Mikleo paused, musing on the idea. “Not tonight.”

“Another time, then?”

Mikleo smiled to himself. “Another time.”

“You want to sleep in my-”

“ _Definitely_ not.”

“Fine, fine. Then... do you want me to hold you?”

His smile grew as he shut his eyes.

“Yes,” he said softly. “That would be nice.”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The book slammed shut.

“Done!” said Sorey, standing from the desk. He stretched his arms over his head. Mikleo rolled over on the bed, closing his own novel and setting it aside.

“Done with Volume Six?”

“That was a long one!” said Sorey between stretches. Without hesitation he searched the bookshelf for another book, set it on the desk and opened it to the foreword.

“Diving right into Volume Seven, are you?”

Sorey hummed in agreement, and began to read aloud.

_"By the hand of Maotelus_

_The strength of Amenoch_

_And bonds forged along the way_

_I will see you again, my friend.”_

He looked up and met Mikleo’s kind, relaxed smile.

“Do I know this friend?”

Mikleo sighed loudly, rolling his eyes. “It’s you, silly.”

Sorey grinned. “I feel like I knew that.”

“Sure you did.”

Sorey closed the book, taking notice at the width.

“How long did this one take you to write?”

Mikleo tapped his chin. “I spent about two hundred and fifty years at sea.”

“Wow,” said Sorey. “I bet your element was really useful on those expeditions.”

Mikleo smiled. “You could say that.”

“This book spans just the oceans, right?”

“Everything but the Seraphs’ Footprint. We found many ruins at the undersea Earthpulse points, scattered islands and anything relevant in between. I’m confident there’s more ruins out there, though.”

“So there’s more out there to discover?”

“Without a doubt.”

“And... this one’s a lot thinner than Volume Six.”

“Then it’ll take you no time at all to read.”

“No, I mean...” He furrowed his brow.

“Sorey,” laughed Mikleo. “There just wasn't that much at sea. We spent a lot of time sailing between locations.”

“So most of those two hundred and fifty years you were just... sailing?”

Mikleo stood and rolled his shoulders. “Yeah.” He moved to the front entry closet and began rummaging.

“Huh,” said Sorey, leaning back. “Was it fun?”

Mikleo paused. “I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Sun baked and salt sprayed, Zaveid and Eizen kept us entertained with drinking and feasting. Edna stuck around for the feasting. And Muse,” he sighed. “Muse kept me sane.”

“And it wasn’t too tough, spending all that time with Edna?”

Mikleo smiled fondly to himself, finally locating what he was looking for in the closet and pulling it down from a shelf. “We’re family,” he said softly. “Dare I say, I... miss her.

“Huh,” said Sorey, leaning back in his chair. “Never thought I’d hear you say that.”

Mikleo hummed in agreement before heading back to sit on the side of the bed.

“What’s that?” asked Sorey.

“It’s a guitar,” said Mikleo, strumming once. He frowned at the off-key strings. “Needs tuning.”

“You know how to play that thing?”

“I was at sea for a very long time,” he said. He plucked one of the strings repeatedly while turning one of the six keys at the top of the instrument, the pitch of the note bending in response. “I had the opportunity to learn all sorts of things.”

“What other instruments can you play?”

“Most anything that can fit on a boat,” said Mikleo, moving to the next string. “Ukulele, kalimba, fiddle, lute... harpsichord... recorder, flute, and another handful more.”

“Wow,” said Sorey. “I didn’t know you had an interest in music.”

“Many wonderful sailing customs resurfaced when we began to explore the seas, and music was of key importance.”

“So music is important when sailing?”

Mikleo strummed a chord, pleased to hear the notes ringing harmoniously in key. “You know what they say, eat, drink and be merry. And music is an important part of merriment.” He began to softly play through the notes in a slow arpeggio. “Don’t let me distract your reading. I’m just setting the mood for Volume Seven.”

Sorey nodded and turned back to the book, reopening it. Mikelo looked down, brushed his hair over his shoulder and began to play. He warmed up with a few scales, regaining footing he was pleased to find he had not forgotten. Finally he began to play a cohesive melody, one of the easier songs he had learned, stumbling through the verse. Once he was confident with his fingering, he began to sing. He sang softly, hidden behind the bright, ringing notes of the guitar.  


_I dreamed a dream the other night_  
 _Lowlands, lowlands away my John_  
 _I dreamed a dream the other night_  
 _Lowlands, my lowlands away_  
  
_I dreamed I saw my own true love_  
 _He stood so still, he did not move_  
 _So dank his hair, so dim his eye_  
 _I knew he'd come to say goodbye_  
  
  
He looked up to see Sorey staring at him, wide eyed and slack jawed. He stopped playing and shrank back.

“Too distracting?”

Sorey closed the book and moved to sit to the bed next to Mikleo. Mikleo pursed his lips and grimaced. “It’s fine. I’ll stop.”

Sorey raised his brows in disbelief. “Mikleo, you- you have a _beautiful_ singing voice.”

Mikleo shrank further in shock, a hot blush blooming across his cheeks. He looked away.

“Please go on. I’ve never heard you- wow.” Sorey grinned brightly.

The blush continued to flourish. “Thank you,” he said meekly. “I wasn’t trying to be a distraction.”

“I can read later,” said Sorey, gently elbowing him. “This, this is what I want to do now. Please. Let me hear you sing.”

Mikleo took a deep breath to regain his composure. He looked back at Sorey, his ridiculous grin so wide his cheeks were nearly pushing his eyes closed. His heart skipped a beat. He was certain in that moment that if he had to fight through another hundred, thousand, or even ten thousand years, he would do it, if only for the promise to see that smile again.

“Come on,” said Sorey, prodding Mikleo with his elbow. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

Mikleo shyly smiled before holding his head up, shaking his hair back and continuing the next verse.

  


_"I'm drowned in the lowland sea," he said._  
 _"Oh you and I will ne'er be wed."_  
 _"I'll never kiss you more," he said_  
 _"Ne'er kiss you more, for I am dead."_  
  
_I will cut off my bonny hair_  
 _No other man will find me fair_  
 _I dreamed a dream the other night  
I dreamed a dream the other night_

  


He lazily continued to strum the chords of the song. He looked up to see Sorey watching his hands intently.

“That song’s kinda sad, isn’t it?” said Sorey.

“It used to be.”

“Huh?”

Mikleo smiled. “I suppose it is sad, isn’t it?” He paused, humming to himself. “I can teach you a happier song, one we can sing together.”

Sorey leaned his head against Mikleo’s shoulder. “I’d like that. But my voice isn’t as pretty as yours.”

Mikleo turned to plant a kiss on Sorey’s head. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He smiled. “There’s several rounds and duets. I’m happy to teach you.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes, tonight, if you want to.”

“Okay.”

Mikleo continued the slow strumming, pausing before shifting into another song. He picked his way through the notes, the chords coming back to his memory and flowing more naturally.

“I’ve decided where I’d like to go when we leave,” said Sorey, dreamily.

“Oh?” asked Mikleo. “And where’s that?”

“West,” said Sorey, simply.

“West?” repeated Mikleo. “No location in particular? No landmark from the first Celestial Record?”

“Yeah,” said Sorey. “There’s too many places to choose from, no matter what I pick I’ll feel like I’m missing out. So I think we should just go West and visit whatever’s along the way. We have time to see everything eventually.”

Mikleo smiled. “Okay.”

“Okay? You’re not mad at me for not having a more thought out plan?”

Mikleo shook his head. “Not at all,” he said. “It’s actually quite a relief. We can just head out, visit what we want, spend as much time as we like, wherever we like. It sounds...” His heart thumped painfully in his chest. “It sounds like what we’ve always wanted.”

“Yeah,” agreed Sorey. “It does.”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Sorey raised his jaw, analyzing his reflection in the bathroom mirror before lathering suds across his mouth, chin and cheeks. He tilted his head to the left, raising the straight razor across his cheekbone, and swiping downwards across his skin. He peeked over to see Mikleo relaxing across a chair, his elbow leaned lazily on the bathroom counter, chin balanced on his fist.

“You don’t mind keeping me company?”

“I’ve always found humans fascinating.” He chuckled to himself. “You know that.”

Sorey hummed in agreement, forming his lips and mouth into various shapes to allow the straight razor passage.

“Do you think you’d ever grow it out?” asked Mikleo.

“I don’t quite have enough for it to look good,” said Sorey, raising his chin and swiping the razor against his lathered neck. “Maybe, one day.” He tapped the razor against the sink, depositing the spent lather before tilting his head, starting on the other side. “How about you? Did you ever grow a beard?”

“No,” said Mikleo. “Never.”

“Why not?”

Mikleo wrinkled his brow. “It’s not common for a seraph my age to have facial hair.” He looked away. “Besides,” he said quietly. “I prefer to be the soft one.”

“The soft one?”

Mikleo peeked up, realizing the words that had fallen from his mouth. For a moment he had forgotten to filter his thoughts, and failed to hold back from Sorey. He cursed himself internally, and for a moment considered the loss; he was able to openly discuss his life with others like Rose or Zaveid, yet with Sorey, he held back. Perhaps one day he could be open about who he had become, who he had discovered himself to be. For the moment, his cheeks filled with blush.

“You know,” he said, muffled into his fist. “When... kissing.”

Sorey laughed through his nose.  “And what, you prefer your partner to be scruffy?”

Mikleo further blushed, averting his eyes. “Maybe.”

Sorey made a funny sound, halfway between a hum and a question. He rinsed off his face, toweling his cheeks and reviewing his handiwork in the mirror before standing, gesturing for Mikleo to move. Mikleo obliged and switched places. Sorey sat in the chair, the towel slung across his shoulders. Mikleo picked up a waiting comb from the counter in one hand, a pair of scissors in the other, and set to work. Soon the air was filled with the unmistakable sound of shears snipping through hair.

“I’ve thought about growing it out,” said Sorey.

“Your hair?” asked Mikleo.

“Yeah,” said Sorey. “Not as long as yours, but at least a ponytail. I think it would be fun.”

“It would suit you,” said Mikleo. “Like the armatus. Longer hair would look great on you.”

“Maybe I’ll do it, then. Not today though.”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


“What do you think, the red one or the blue one?”

Mikleo looked up from rifling through his own dresser drawer to see Sorey holding a red button up shirt against his chest.

“Either one is great,” said Mikleo.

“What are you wearing?” asked Sorey.

“Same as always,” he said, locating a clean black ruffled undershirt. He smoothed his fingers against the fabric before pulling it across his back and slipping his arms through the sleeves.

“That’s boring,” said Sorey. “I want to do something different. Leave a good memory, you know?”

“It’s not like we won’t be back,” said Mikleo.

“I know,” he said, “Still.”

Mikleo looked up from buttoning see Sorey had chosen the red shirt. He nodded slowly.

“Looks good,” he said.

“Thanks.”

“You about ready?” asked Mikleo, pulling his jacket on.

“Yeah,” said Sorey.

“How about your cloak?”

“Don’t need it tonight. I mean, we’re going to a pub, right?”

“So?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure what to expect,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “Maybe I shouldn’t wear something like that in a... you know, it’s not like a church.”

Mikleo laughed. “You really don’t know what to expect, huh?”

Sorey grinned. “Not really, no.”

“Let’s get going. The others are waiting for us.”

“Yeah,” said Sorey. “I’m ready.”

It was a short walk to the pub. Mikleo was pleased to see that news of his and Sorey’s departure was not widespread; he preferred an air of mystery to surround his activities. The last thing he wanted was a following on this journey.

“You guys made it!” said Rose, greeting them at the door. She spoke loudly over the live music, a drink already in her hand. She exchanged a forceful hug with Sorey, then with Mikleo, careful not to spill her drink.

“Hey,” said Mikleo.

“Don’t hey me,” she said. “I can’t believe you guys are leaving in two days!”

“Aw, Rose, we’ll be back,” said Sorey.

“I know, but, we just got the gang back together and you’re already-” Rose paused.

“Now now, don’t get too emotional,” said a pink-cheeked Alisha from behind Rose. “It’s not forever. Right?”

“Of course not,” said Mikleo. “Good evening, Princess.”

Alisha’s flushed cheeks further flushed. “I’m not that drunk, yet.” She moved towards Mikleo, taking his hand gently then touching her forehead to his. “Good evening.” She turned to Sorey and repeated the greeting.

“Lookit my hot wife,” said Rose. “Graceful and hot.”

Sorey chuckled. “Ah, I will miss you guys.”

“Go get a drink,” said Rose. “Lailah’s by the bar too.”

Sorey looked at Mikleo for approval. Mikleo met his glance and clutched his wrist, pulling him towards the bar. With Sorey in tow, Mikleo weaved through the small crowd and found the spot by the bar his friends had claimed.

“Sorey,” said Lailah, standing from her barstool.

“Lailah,” he said kindly, greeting her with the same softly touched hands and met foreheads. Mikleo repeated the greeting.

“What kind of sound does a Shepherd make when leaving?”

Mikleo made an apprehensive face.

“I don’t know, what kind?” asked Sorey excitedly.

Lailah clasped her hands together. “Baa-baa!”

Sorey scratched his head. “I don’t think I get it.” Mikleo smirked.

“Then try this one on. You won’t have to pack too much, because you’re travelling _light_.”

“Ahh.. ah hah!” Sorey very obviously fake laughed. “Lailah, you’re a riot.”

“You know I’m just warming up,” she said. “Ready to make some pour decisions? Get it? Pour?”

“I _won’t_ miss that,” said Mikleo.

“You will too,” retorted Lailah.

“We’ll be back,” said Mikleo, whisking Sorey away to a nearby barstool. He set his elbow on the bar and rested his mouth against his fist. He looked over to see Sorey frowning.

“What do I order?” said Sorey. “I don’t know anything about drinking.”

Mikleo chuckled. “Let’s start you off with something easy.” He leaned forward, easily garnering the bartender’s attention.

“What can I get you two?”

“A rum and soda, please. And your lager on tap.”

“Coming right up. Shall I start a tab for you, Grand Seraph?”

“Yes please. Thank you.”

“Rum and soda?” asked Sorey curiously.

“It’s sweet, but potent,” said Mikleo, leaning back. He pointed at the corner of the bartop, where an ornamental box holding a stack of paper and pencils lay. “You see that there?”

“Yeah,” said Sorey. “What’s it for?”

“Back when resonance was not as plentiful, Seraphim would write their orders for bartenders and the like,” he said, over the chatter of the crowd. “It was our only way to communicate while indulging in human accommodations for quite some time.”

“That must have been a tough transition,” said Sorey.

“Not as hard as being totally invisible,” said Mikleo. “You and I, we changed this world.”

Their drinks arrived in time for Mikleo to raise his in a toast.

“To us,” said Mikleo. “To never forgetting our dream.”

Sorey cheerfully raised his glass and clinked it with Mikleo’s. Mikleo took a large sip of his lager, setting it back on the bartop. He glanced to see Sorey taking a curious sip of his brown beverage, reeling back briefly, then another analytical sip.

“Do you like it?”

Sorey wrinkled his nose. “It’s got a sharp taste.”

“You’ll get used to the alcohol. Want to try mine?”

Sorey nodded, reaching forward and obliging himself in a sip of the lager. He reeled nearly as soon as it touched his tongue.

“How can you drink that?!” said Sorey. “It’s awful!”

Mikleo beamed a smile. “It’s a complex flavor,” he said. “It takes training your palate to enjoy beer.”

“Why force yourself to drink that? Do you enjoy it?”

“I do,” said Mikleo, smiling and taking another sip.

Sorey shook his head and took another sip of his own drink, reeling from the astringent beverage.

“Is this seat taken?” he heard a woman say.

Mikleo looked up to see a flirtatiously dressed human woman, smiling at Sorey. The woman batted her hazel eyes, twirling a lock of her blonde hair in her fingers.

“No,” said Sorey.

Mikleo found his elbow moving involuntarily to Sorey’s side as a warning. Sorey ignored it.

The girl smiled courteously and slid onto the barstool, fluffing her hair. She extended her hand forward.

“I’m Nella,” she said, extending her hand forward.

“Sorey,” said Sorey, shaking her hand.

“Like the Shepherd?” she said curiously.

“Yeah,” said Sorey. A violent pang of jealousy shot through Mikleo.

“Lord Mikleo!” His thoughts were interrupted by a booming voice. He turned to see an older gentleman holding a beer in one hand. “I thought that might be you!”

Mikleo turned. “Do I know you?”

“No, but you know my twins.”

Mikleo furrowed his brow in thought. “Evan and Emma?”

“That’s them!” he beamed proudly. “Graduates of Diphda Academy.”

Mikleo smiled, his thoughts still on Sorey. “It’s been a few years, but I remember them well. Great students, the both of them.”

“They serve the clergy in Marlind,” said the man. “Walking the straight and narrow.”

Mikleo nodded. “Glad to hear it. I’ll be sure to pay them a visit when I’m in town.” He glanced over to see Sorey getting up from his barstool, following the blonde girl back to a table. He was too late to do anything about it without seeming desperate or irrational. He pursed his lip and turned back to the man.

“I’m Beckett,” said the man. “Come meet my wife, if you’re not too busy. She’d love to say hello!” He gestured at a nearby table with his chin.

“Of course, I’d love to,” said Mikleo through his teeth, getting up from the barstool. He caught a glimpse of Sorey, now seated at a table, laughing, with several attractive women vying for his attention.

Mikleo sat with Beckett at his table and met his wife, Chelsea, and her brother Langley. They spoke of their lives, that Langley had grown too weak for work and Chelsea struggled as a cloth merchant to support them both when she met Beckett. Despite being later in her years they were blessed with twins, and Diphda Academy was a great choice for the both of them, wanting to serve the Seraphim from their youth. Mikleo was met with much back slapping and hand holding as he finished his lager far too quickly. Beckett retrieved him a refill as he spoke with Chelsea and Langley about his past career in masonry which earned him a living until retiring and moving in with his sister. Mikleo downed his second lager, half interested, half feigned as he kept a side eye on Sorey, having fun and laughing with a table full of women.

Another lager appeared in front of him. He looked up to see a server slinking away.

“Oh, I didn’t order this,” said Mikleo.

“It’s from the table over there, my Lord,” said the server, pointing.

The table was full of mixed company, more women than men, more humans than Seraph. A few of the girls shyly waved.

“You should thank them,” said Chelsea, leaning forwards. “Say hello, go on.”

“You sure?” asked Mikleo.

“We’ve taken enough of your time,” said Beckett. “Have fun tonight.”

Mikleo nodded, took a sip of the lager and stood. “It’s been a pleasure. Truly.”

“The pleasure is all ours,” said Beckett, clasping his hand in his. “You’ve bestowed us many blessings. Have a wonderful rest of your evening.”

Mikleo nodded, picked up his lager and wove his way through the crowd. He approached the table. A young woman with raven black hair and stunning blue eyes stood.

“Hi, I’m Sylvia,” she said nervously. “Want to sit with us?”

“Why not,” said Mikleo, taking an empty seat.

This was not how he envisioned the evening going.

The group of young men and women were friends, visiting from Rolance. The two Seraphim that accompanied them were wanderers that happened to cross their paths, and like Mikleo, enjoyed the company of humans. The young human men in the group were drunkenly trying to impress the women. Sylvia and a red haired Fire Seraph, Farah, were fawning over Mikleo, Farah trying to play obvious wingman to the nervous Sylvia.

The live band began to play a slower song. Mikleo felt someone approaching him from behind, a familiar energy, not a threat. He felt a hand, moving from his shoulder down his arm, and a brushing against his cheek.

“Shall we dance?”

He turned to see Uno, dangerously invading his personal space.

“Excuse me, it’s been lovely,” said Mikleo, standing. He followed Uno onto the largely empty dance floor, a few couples slow dancing tightly in each others’ arms.

“You looked like you needed an escape,” said Uno.

“I did. I mean, I don’t.” He put one hand casually on Uno’s shoulder as he placed one on Mikleo’s lower back. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Oh?”

He gestured towards the table Sorey was at with his chin. He seemed to be deep in conversation with one of the girls.

“You’re jealous,” said Uno. “Let’s return the favor.” Uno pulled Mikleo closer. Mikleo frowned but obliged, leaning his head against Uno’s shoulder.

“I am jealous,” said Mikleo. “I don’t even know what they’re talking about. And I don’t want to. Just the thought of him talking- _flirting_ with someone else burns me up inside.”

Uno hummed, gently rubbing circles on Mikleo’s back. “You’re afraid of losing him.”

“Honestly, I...” Mikleo took a deep breath. “I’m not sure what I would do. He means the world to me.”

“You need to tell him, Mikleo.”

“I know, it’s just- the time isn’t right.”

“When will it be? And if someone else snatches him up first?”

Mikleo grumbled and clutched Uno tighter. He felt Uno nuzzling his cold nose against his neck.

“He’s quite a catch.”

“I know.”

“And so are you,” said Uno. “You’ll always be the one that got away.” He played with a lock of Mikleo’s hair. Mikleo sighed deeply before gripping Uno closer, taking comfort in his familiarity.

“Don’t look now, but he is watching us.”

Mikleo perked up. “Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Does he look happy? Sad?”

“Neither. He’s just watching.”

“Curious, then.” Mikleo hummed.

“You should tell him.”

“I will. Someday.”

The song ended. Mikleo took a step back.

“Thanks,” he said. He touched his forehead to Uno’s. “I’ll see you around.”

“I’d say I’ll miss you, but you always come back.”

Mikleo nodded and stepped back. A more lively, popular song began to play. The bar began to cheer as the dance floor flooded with people familiar with the dance that went along.

“Mikleo!” called a familiar voice. He looked up to see Lailah waving him over, Rose and Alisha standing beside each other. He moved through the crowd to meet Lailah.

“Need a partner?” he said.

Lailah smiled. A song cue played, the dance floor began to move, partners with their partners. There was no lead, no difficult steps, just a simple, easy dance that everyone could enjoy. There was good reason for its popularity.

“Sorey was always good at making friends,” said Lailah between steps.

“Too good,” said Mikleo.

“Oh come now,” she said. “He’s coming home with you.”

“He had better.”

She smiled brightly. He rolled his eyes and continued the dance. It was fun, a great distraction to keep his mind off what was happening, or what was hopefully not happening.

After the dance, he thanked Lailah and made his way to the bar. After getting the attention of the bartender, he ordered an old favorite; whiskey, straight up. Upon receiving it he dropped ice cubes of his own artes into it, swirled the glass and took a large sip. He rested his elbow on the bar, his mouth pushed against his fist, his expression pensive.

Not long after, he felt someone slam into his side. He turned to see an extremely smiley Sorey. His expression was intoxicating and contagious, he couldn’t help himself from smiling in return.

“Having fun?” asked Mikleo.

“Can you teach me that dance?” asked Sorey.

“Sure, it’s easy,” said Mikleo. “But they probably won’t play it again tonight.”

“Do they play that song in different towns?”

“I suppose we’ll find out,” said Mikleo.

“Good,” said Sorey, taking a sip of a strange green drink from a martini glass. “I want to know so we can dance next time.”

Mikleo quirked an eyebrow and opened his mouth, then shut it, then opened it again. He wanted desperately to know what he had been up to. But it didn’t matter. He was here, now. He settled on asking about his drink.

“What’s that you’re drinking?”

“It’s called an appletini,” said Sorey proudly. “Wanna try?”

“I’ve had it before,” said Mikleo. “Too sweet, even for me.”

Sorey shrugged and leaned against Mikleo’s shoulder again. Mikleo leaned back. Sorey turned and punched him gently on the shoulder. Mikleo punched him back, probably a little harder than was necessary. They continued to pepper each other with gentle fists which quickly turned into poking and tickling fingers, although deep down Mikleo desired to give Sorey one solid good punch to punish him and express his frustration, then pull him close and never let him go.

The rest of the evening sped along more quickly than anticipated. Lailah, Rose and Alisha each came by to say a final goodbye. Lailah expressed how much she would miss them, making them pinky promise to return one day and that throughout all the ages, there was no one she could believe in more. Rose cried, demanding that they visit and write and not stay far for too long, and Alisha gave them solemn, yet dignified goodbyes.

Soon they were outside of the bar, walking home.

“If whiskey was a river and I could swim,” sang Mikleo, his arm slung around Sorey. “I'd say here goes and dive right in.”

“Sounds like you had a bit too much,” said Sorey, his arm equally slung around Mikleo for support. Mikleo grinned.

“If whiskey was a river and I was a duck,” he continued singing, “I'd dive to the bottom and never come up.”

“I wisht I knew where whiskey grew, I'd eat the leaves and the branches too. A tot of whiskey all around, And a bottle full for the shanty man.”

“Okay, sailor, let’s get you home.”

“Grand Seraph Lord Sailor,” said Mikleo. He wrinkled his brow. “And you’re Lord... Sleepy Shepherd.”

Sorey yawned. “I am sleepy. You have fun tonight?”

“Only if you had fun.”

“I did,” said Sorey. “Let’s do it again sometime.”

“Yeah,” agreed Mikleo. “Let’s.”

  



	9. Rend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your patience and support. I've been working on this chapter for far too long, clocking at 6,533 words! You are all amazing.

Mikleo reached down and ruffled Sorey’s hair. Sorey tilted his head back against Mikleo’s tummy and smiled, a book balanced on his chest. Mikleo smiled. He knew he may reminisce back to these times of calm and quiet, lazy moments reading together on the bed in the future. But for now, he had enough of staying still. He had stayed close to Ladylake since returning from sea and was more than ready to begin adventuring again. Sorey felt the same wanderlust as he did; the anxious energy between them was palpable. Bags packed and leaned by the door, tomorrow morning they would be meeting with Maotelus to escort him to Pendrago. From there they would head West to begin their adventures. Mikleo tousled a curl between his fingers.

“I can’t concentrate on my book,” said Mikleo. “I keep thinking about tomorrow.”

Sorey laughed. “I can’t concentrate either.”

“You’re sure you packed everything you need?”

Sorey paused. “Yeah.”

Mikleo hummed and picked his book up again, returning his fingers to Sorey’s hair. He lazily carded through the chestnut hair, dragging soft fingernails against his scalp. Sorey leaned back and sighed, fidgeting restlessly shifting his legs. Dinner was finished hours ago. All that was left was to pass the time before they were both tired enough to retire to sleep.

“Anything you want to visit in Ladylake before we go?”

“I’m sure there is, but we’ll be back.”

Mikleo hummed in agreement. “Anything you want to do before we go?”

That seemed to earn a reaction from Sorey, as he smiled and shut his book, setting it aside. He sat up, stretching, then climbed across the bed beside Mikleo when he unexpectedly swung one leg over him, effectively straddling and sitting on his lower body.

“Yeah,” said Sorey. “You.”

Mikleo quirked an eyebrow, setting aside his own book.

“What?” he asked softly.

Sorey raised his lowered eyes. “Before we go.” He took a courageous breath. “Sleep with me.”

Mikleo chuckled. “Sorey,” he started. “I told you, I can’t-”

“Sleep with me,” repeated Sorey.

Sorey rolled his hips slightly, settling against Mikleo. He felt the urgency between Sorey’s legs through their soft pajama pants, not a growing need but a firm, angry hardness that must have been there for some time. Mikleo opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“Last time, you said I wasn’t mature. I think, I hope I’ve grown in the last couple weeks. And I can’t-” He pressed his hips against Mikleo, who was doing his best not to react. “I can’t stop thinking about it. I want you.”

Mikleo furrowed his brow and rolled his lip between his teeth. Those words were music to his ears, an answer to his prayers. And yet, he couldn’t betray his promise to himself. He closed his eyes and leaned back into the pillow.

“I can’t,” said Mikleo.

“But you want to,” said Sorey.

Mikleo huffed and looked away. “I can’t,” he repeated.

“I’ll do it soft, if you like.”

“Sorey.”

“Any position you want.”

“ _Sorey._ ”

Mikleo’s hands shook as he fought an internal battle with himself, straining against the innate desire to pull Sorey closer, to paw at his chest and give in. He let out a small whimper.

“You’re scared you’ll lose control,” said Sorey quietly.

Mikleo grimaced. “I am.”

“I thought of that,” said Sorey, his hands tracing down Mikleo’s arms, sliding his fingers between each others’, weaving their hands together.

“Oh?” asked Mikleo.

Sorey dragged their linked hands together higher on the bed until they were over Mikleo’s head. He leaned forward to accommodate the position, their noses nearly touching.

“I’ll bind your hands,” said Sorey. He slipped his fingers apart, one hand sliding against Mikleo’s wrists and gripping them together. “Like this.”

Mikleo’s breathing quickened, his heart pounded in his ears, only rivalled by the faint echo of Sorey’s own.

“You like that idea,” said Sorey.

“No,” retorted Mikleo.

“Your heartbeat betrays you.” Sorey leaned closer, his nose dragging a soft line down Mikleo’s neck. Mikleo shivered, his legs fidgeting beneath him. He whimpered again.

“Make love to me,” said Sorey softly, his hot breaths tracing against Mikleo’s neck.

“I can’t,” whispered Mikleo.

“I can feel how much you want to,” said Sorey. “I won’t hurt you.”

Another whimper. “That’s not what I’m afraid of.”

“I can handle it.”

“Sorey...”

“Make love to me, Mikleo.”

He felt his legs spreading beneath them, their bodies shifting to make room for each other, his knees bending up against Sorey’s sides. Sorey’s free hand moved down, his knuckles dragging against Mikleo’s flank. Their hips pressed together, a joined effort in seeking relief.

“I wanna make you feel good,” said Sorey. “Let me take care of you.” He pushed his hardness against Mikleo.

“But the malevolence,” said Mikleo.

“It’s dormant,” said Sorey. “And I’m strong against it. There’s no need to worry.”

Another whimper as his eyes darted around the room. Sorey was right, despite his stubborn resistance, he desperately wanted to. And yes, although he felt himself losing control, he trusted Sorey fully; he would trust Sorey with his life. He was out of excuses that he could give. The final, solid reason painfully echoed in his mind.

_But you don’t love me._

“Please,” said Mikleo. “I can’t.” His legs moved uncontrolled, wrapping themselves around Sorey.

“I’ll protect you,” said Sorey. “Please, let me make you feel good.” He opened his hand against Mikleo’s side, earning a slight, ticklish squirm. He chuckled in response. “Mikleo. I want you.”

Mikleo let out a choked whimper. He would lose this fight if Sorey kept it up. But he couldn’t, not now. The time wasn’t right. They were just friends. A friendship that could be damaged by falling, tumbling head first down this slippery slope.

He took a deep breath, and dissipated his physical form, fading into soft, blue light.

Sorey slumped forward on the bed, Mikleo’s body no longer beneath him. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the pillow. Mikleo reformed, sitting on the side of the bed with his feet on the ground.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” said Sorey. He laughed. “I don’t know how to do what I’m trying to do.”

“Yeah,” said Mikleo. “I know.”

“Ever since I read that book, I’ve really wanted to do those things with you.”

“Though I appreciate your trust, I can’t be your outlet.”

Sorey whined. “But I do trust you. You’re experienced. You could teach me.”

“I’m sorry.” Mikleo looked away. “I’m not...” He sighed softly. “I’m not ready.”

“So what do I do?” asked Sorey.

“Take care of it yourself.”

“How?”

Mikleo huffed a laugh. “With your hand?”

Sorey fell silent.

“You do know how to do that, don’t you?”

Sorey shook his head.

Mikleo’s mind reeled. He had figured that after Sorey had walked in on him, he would have experimented on his own. Not only was Sorey virginal, but he had never experienced climax. He was begging Mikleo to help him with so many firsts. He smiled painfully at the trust his friend had for him.

Mikleo softly pulled Sorey’s warm hand into his, pressing his thumb against his palm. He hesitated for a moment before dragging his thumb down the length of Sorey’s forearm, his four fingers trailing along the opposite side of his arm. He reached Sorey’s elbow and switched direction, dragging upward with his thumb and fingers firmly wrapped around Sorey’s arm.

“Like this,” he said. He swirled his thumb against Sorey’s palm before again dragging it down his forearm. Again when touching Sorey’s elbow with his delicate fingertips he reversed direction, stroking his arm up before softly letting go.

Sorey looked at him with wide eyes, a strong blush blooming across his face.

“Do you understand?” asked Mikleo, his own blushing warmth warming his cheeks.

Sorey nodded.

Mikleo stood. “I’ll leave you with some privacy. I’ll be back.”

“Don’t go,” said Sorey, standing. “I’ll- I’ll do it in the bathroom. Just, please don’t leave.”

“Then I’ll stay here,” said Mikleo, sitting back on the bed.

“Okay,” said Sorey. He turned his reddened face, retreating into the bathroom. The door softly clicked behind him.

Mikleo flopped backwards onto the bed, hissing out a loud, frustrated breath. He wouldn’t let his mind follow any train of thought. Certainly not how much he wanted to go after Sorey, perform the act for him, any act Sorey wanted in earnest education and to satisfy his own curiosity and desire-

No, he couldn’t follow any of those thoughts. He huffed again to himself and picked his book up. After rereading the first sentence of the page he had left off on several times, he found the concentration to move forward. He read, feigning ignorance to what was likely happening in the next room.

After a few pages, he heard the door open.

“Well,” said Mikleo, closing his book and sitting up. “Feeling better?”

Sorey gripped his arm and looked away. “N-not really.”

Mikleo waited patiently for an explanation.

“I couldn’t do it,” offered Sorey. “I tried, and it started to feel good, but I couldn’t and I just-” He stopped to take a breath, his brow furrowed and face red. “I don’t think I can do it.”

“Okay,” said Mikleo slowly.

“And the worst part,” he said, exasperated. “The worst part is I’m still _hard._ And I don’t know what, or _how_ I’m supposed to-”

Mikleo left the bed. He began to pull on his boots.

Sorey let his arms drop by his sides, his erection visibly tenting his pants.

“Where are you going?”

“We,” said Mikleo, “Are going to spar. Grab your sword.”

Sorey nodded firmly, grabbing his scabbard and attaching it to his belt before pulling on his own boots.

“Will this help?” asked Sorey, beginning to head down the stairs behind Mikleo.

“It will help keep your mind off things.”

“You sure you don’t want to help?”

“Sorey.”

“Sorry. I won’t ask anymore.”

They reached the courtyard behind the tower shortly after. As always, Mikleo summoned several ice walls to isolate the training ground. He summoned his staff and held it at the ready.

“No artes?”

“No artes,” agreed Sorey.

Sorey swung first in an anxious frenzy. Mikleo dodged and blocked blow after blow before creating distance between them. After regaining his footing he attacked in retaliation, each of his attacks blocked and parried. In the few weeks Sorey had been awake he had worked hard to counter all of Mikleo’s training and earn his role as his match.  An even, well earned match in every way, strong in battle both against and alongside each other. Their bodies working, sweating, pushing each other back and forth in an even flow of power. His muscles strained to defend himself now as Sorey continued his onslaught, thrusting in an even rhythm, his pulse pounding in the back of his mind.

Despite Sorey’s aggressive attacks Mikleo landed the first blow, his staff landing softly against Sorey’s side. Sorey stepped back, bowed briefly and stood ready for the next round.

Sorey began again, thrusting evenly and rhythmically with his sword. Watching him work, his control of his body and his seemingly endless stamina was mesmerizing. Mikleo blocked against the flurry of attacks despite the best efforts of his mind’s distraction, only to find his foot wrapped around Sorey’s. He lost his balance and fell onto his back, Sorey toppling on top of him.

“You okay?” asked Sorey, his hands pushing against Mikleo’s shoulders, propping himself up.

“Yeah,” said Mikleo, blinking in confusion.

Sorey leaned forward, his rigid erection pressed firmly against Mikleo’s thigh.

“If you wanted,” he said quietly, “You could take me right here, under the stars.” He leaned forward, his breath hot against Mikleo’s neck. “It would be fitting, for my first time.”

A pause of hesitance and consideration hung between them.

“That’s enough sparring,” said Mikleo, bringing his forearm up in defense and shoving Sorey off of him. He stood and dusted off his pants. Sorey stood and found his sword, resheathing it.

“Sorry.”

Mikleo huffed to himself before dismissing the ice walls surrounding their arena. He walked briskly towards home, Sorey jogging to catch up behind him.

“Are you mad at me?” asked Sorey.

“No.”

“You are,” said Sorey. “I’m being annoying.”

“Asking incessant questions is annoying.”

“Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” said Mikleo, opening the door to the tower.

“Sorry,” said Sorey. “Ah, I mean, I’ll just shut up.”

Mikleo huffed a laugh to himself, pausing before heading upstairs. He reached the door first, the seal flashing for hopefully what would be the last time before they left on their journey tomorrow. He held the door open for Sorey, who entered sheepishly. They took their boots off next to each other, neatly setting them by the door by their awaiting bags.

“Get on the bed,” commanded Mikleo.

Sorey did a double take before doing as he was told, and sat on the bed.

Mikleo folded his arms. “Under the covers.”

Sorey nodded excitedly and pulled the comforter over himself.

“Strip.”

The excitement was tangible in Sorey’s breath as he whipped his shirt and pants off, flinging them across the room, so much so that he did not notice Mikleo retreating into the bathroom, bringing back a towel. Mikleo sat beside Sorey on the bed, the blanket covering his naked form.

“Are we gonna do it?” asked Sorey.

Mikleo huffed a laugh. “No. The towel is for you to clean up after yourself. There’s lube in the nightstand if you need it.”

“Why?”

“You’re going to try this again. You’re going to do it yourself, so we can both get through tonight.” Mikleo stood. “I’m going to draw a bath. Come get me when you’re done. And not before.”

“But-”

“Please at least try,” said Mikleo, exasperated.

Sorey nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“Alright. Thank you.” Mikleo turned and dimmed the lights, retreating to the restroom and closing the door behind himself.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, screaming inside his own head. Why now? Why couldn’t Sorey have been this frisky when they were teenagers? Why tempt him like this when he suffered with the weight of malevolence in his heart? His heart, unfulfilled, _unloved_ -

It was of no use considering; he would be done soon, and they could get through the rest of tonight. Mikleo stripped his clothes, running the bath.

But what of the future? What if Sorey were to tempt him like this again?

Mikleo bit his lip as he took several deep breaths, trying to concentrate on the flow of mana through the pipes. He stepped into the filling bathwater, leaning back in the partially filled tub.

He would just have to be clear; Sorey would need to find his own private time, away from Mikleo. It was an unbendable rule. At least until there was a solution to every other issue terrorizing his mind.

The water finally reached an ideal level. He leaned forward and shut the faucets, leaning back again. He strained his ears for a moment, searching for any shuddered breath or moan of pleasure. He wrinkled his nose and sunk underwater, fully submerging himself.

The tub was large enough that he could lay, submerged and unbreathing, surrounded by his element. It calmed and soothed him, excess mana flowing freely and equalizing between his body and the water. He laid still, wrapped in his element and found his mind entering a calm, meditative state.

Time passed; he didn’t know if it had been minutes or hours. The calm was broken by a rapid heartbeat pressing at the back of his consciousness gaining in urgency, and the muffled sound of his name.

Mikleo sat up in the tub, blinking, returning to reality.

“Mikleo?” called the voice again.

“Coming,” said Mikleo. He dismissed the water, stepping out of the tub. He shook out his wild mane of hair. He grabbed a robe hanging on a hook on the wall, slipped it on and left.

Sorey was sitting on the bed, looking much like how he had before Mikleo left, save for the frown on his face. Mikleo sat by his side.

“How did it go?”

Sorey pursed his lip and looked away.

Mikleo stood and turned to leave, only to find his wrist gripped firmly by Sorey.

“Please,” said Sorey.

“Please what?” asked Mikleo. He turned to see Sorey’s concern stricken face, his eyes pleading.

“Don’t go,” he whimpered. “I can’t, and I’m, I, Mikleo, I,”

“Shh,” said Mikleo, sitting on the floor beside the bed. He set his other hand over Sorey’s. “One thing at a time.”

“I’m scared,” he said.

Mikleo smiled. “What’s there to be scared of?”

Sorey took a handful of panicked breaths. “I’m, because it’s not pure, and, I mean it is, but I’ve been told for _so long_ that it wasn’t, that I’m scared, I’m so scared Mikleo-”

“It’s okay,” said Mikleo calmly. “Take a deep breath.”

“I’m scared of the malevolence,” said Sorey. “I’m scared, and every time I get close, I get scared, and I can’t, and it’s starting to _hurt,_ Mikleo, and I-” He whimpered.

“There’s no malevolence,” said Mikleo. “You’re pure, you’ve always been.” He huffed a small laugh to himself.

Sorey twisted his hand and gripped against Mikleo’s tightly.

“Help,” he said.

“Sorey,” he said, nervously laughing. “I’m trying to help you.”

“No,” said Sorey, squeezing his hand enough to make Mikleo wince. “Help,” he repeated. “Help me do this.”

It twisted Mikleo’s heart to see Sorey in pain like this.

“I’m scared,” said Sorey. “Please, just, please help me just this once. Please, and I’ll never, I’ll never ever ask you again, just please, please _help_ me-”

“Sorey.” Mikleo interrupted.

Sorey paused, only his ragged breaths breaking the silence of the room.

“You’re asking me to do what I think you’re asking me to do?”

“Please. Please, please help me.”

“Are you asking me to touch you?”

“Mikleo, I-”

“Answer me.”

Sorey swallowed. “Yeah.”

“And if I do,” said Mikleo, standing. “You’ll go to bed afterwards. We’ll never speak of this again.”

“Yes, I promise. I promise.”

Mikleo closed his eyes and nodded slowly to himself in disbelief of what he was agreeing to.

“Alright,” he said. “Scoot forward.”

Sorey listened without objection, scooting forward on the bed. Mikleo averted his eyes to avoid seeing any glimpse of Sorey’s naked form peeking from under the blanket, and slid in the bed, sitting behind Sorey. He spread his legs around Sorey, straddling him.

“Thank you,” said Sorey. “I’m so glad I have you. You’re my best friend in the world.”

“Don’t mention it,” huffed Mikleo, still in disbelief of what he was about to do. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yeah,” said Sorey, leaning back slightly against Mikleo’s chest.

“Okay. I’m going to touch you now. Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

Mikleo closed his eyes and let his left hand wander.

His hand slid against Sorey’s sun-burnished flank, eliciting a slight ticklish response. He laid his hand flat, moving down, meeting the crease of his leg. He moved towards the center, heat radiating thickly, his fingers finding soft tufts of hair before meeting the base of his firm, erect cock.

“Ah-”

“Shh,” said Mikleo, his fingertips sliding upwards to grip Sorey’s hard cock. His fingertips felt like they were touching fire. His skin was soft and smooth, what he had in his hand must have been _lovely_. Although he tried to remain clinical and separated from the action, he felt his own body reacting in response. He hoped the sash on the robe would hold shut and protect Sorey against his own body.

“This is what you’re asking for, right?”

“Yeah,” said Sorey.

“Show me how you did it.”

After a moment of hesitance he felt Sorey’s right hand weaving his fingers around his, gripping his cock and stroking firmly.

“It felt good,” said Sorey, “I think I almost got there a few times. But then I got scared of the malevolence.”

“There’s no malevolence,” said Mikleo, nudging his nose against the left side of Sorey’s neck. “You’re doing it right. It’s all in your mind, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, pulling his hand back.

“I’m gonna do this,” said Mikleo, stroking Sorey’s cock. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, yes,” said Sorey, leaning his head back against Mikleo’s right shoulder.

Mikleo hummed. “Forgive me if my hand wanders.”

Mikleo began stroking rhythmically, his right hand moving on it’s own to Sorey’s right nipple, rolling it between his fingers.

“Yeah,” said Sorey between shuddered breaths.

Mikleo caught himself pressing his lips against Sorey’s neck, pulling back briefly before resuming, allowing himself to fully pleasure Sorey in the experience. He felt Sorey melting in his arms, basking in the pleasure Mikleo was freely immersing him with.

After a few more strokes, he felt Sorey jerk forward slightly.

“Something wrong?” he asked, moving his mouth up to Sorey’s ear.

“I’m scared,” said Sorey.

He moved his right hand over Sorey’s heart. “Shh,” said Mikleo. “It’s okay. There’s no malevolence.”

“Are you sure?”

“You’re safe with me,” said Mikleo, pulling Sorey back against him. “You’re pure. Okay?”

“Mikleo,” Sorey groaned, relaxing slightly. “Mikleo.”

“You’re safe,” repeated Mikleo, his lips and tongue finding the outside of Sorey’s ear.

“Mikleo,” moaned Sorey. “You’re so good. So good to me. Feels so good.”

Hearing Sorey broken and raw was nearly enough to make Mikleo black out from loss of blood.

“Sorey,” whined Mikleo. “I need you to come for me.”

“Yeah,” said Sorey. “Ye- Yeah.”

“Come for me,” he repeated into the soft skin of Sorey’s neck, his eyes shut tightly. “Come for me.”

“Mikleo, I, Mikleo, Mikleo,” Sorey chanted his name, his back arching in exquisite release.

Mikleo’s sight suddenly burst with light as his body was filled with a surge of energy; of _mana_ ; a vision forced into his mind’s eye of light, flowing into the sky, coupled by a feeling of floating. The light was soft yet electric, a warm peace bathing his body before the vision faded. Mikleo furrowed his brow as his knuckles were honeyed by Sorey’s warm seed.

Sorey leaned his weight against Mikleo as his breath returned to normal.

“Of course,” said Mikleo under his breath.

“Of course what?” asked Sorey.

“Your energies,” said Mikleo. “You shouldn’t have them, and yet... beautiful, as expected.”

Sorey hummed a smile. “What did you see?”

“Light,” said Mikleo. “Warm and peaceful.”

Sorey hummed again. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” said Mikleo kindly. He paused. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great,” said Sorey. “But could you, uh, let go?”

“Oh,” said Mikleo, loosening his grip and finally opening his eyes in the dark room. He scooted back slightly, noticing only then that he himself had poked between the folds of his robe and had been pressed against Sorey’s backside, leaving a slight mess of precum. He summoned a small amount of water to clean Sorey, both front and back.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbled.

Sorey laughed. “It’s fine,” said Sorey. “Besides, it’s your turn now.”

“My turn for wha-”

Sorey turned around, now facing Mikleo, his hand pressed against Mikleo’s chest. He dragged his palm against the open folds of his robe, pushing Mikleo backwards.

“Sorey.”

“Let me use what you taught me,” said Sorey, his naked body now over Mikleo’s. “Let me make you feel good.”

“This is not what we agreed on.”

Sorey huffed a laugh. “Do you think I couldn’t feel you? You were so hard, the whole time. I just wanna give you what you gave me.”

“Sorey-”

“You felt my energies,” said Sorey. “Let me feel yours.”

Sorey sat back on his haunches, his fingertips tracing the edge of Mikleo’s robe, downward, his fingers reaching the knotted sash against his tummy.

“I can use my hands,” said Sorey, his eyes fixed on the knot. “Or my mouth. Whichever you prefer.”

“Sorey,” he whimpered. He felt like his mind was breaking apart.

Sorey’s fingers had skillfully untied the knot, the two ends of the sash fluttering their descent against the bed. The robe loosened, falling slightly and exposing Mikleo’s pale, heaving chest and pink nipples. Sorey’s shaking fingertips drew under one side of the robe, pushing it to the side. All that was between Sorey and Mikleo’s naked, throbbing self was the other side of the robe, a thin piece of fabric. Sorey’s fingers drew down against the edge of the robe, grasping it gingerly between his fingers and-

Mikleo swatted his hand away and sat up, pulling the robe closed tightly and re-tying the sash.

“I can’t.”

“Just for tonight,” offered Sorey, his eyes pouting.

Mikleo squinted tightly, swinging his legs off the side of the bed.

“I can’t,” repeated Mikleo. He had to get out of there before he did something he knew he would regret. He stood and walked to the bathroom, not looking back.

The door shut behind him as he slumped down to the ground. He untied his sash, glancing at the menace between his legs. He wasted no time touching his hand to his cock, gasping with relief, gripping with the same hand that he had just touched Sorey with.

He would carry the memory forever; an eternity of his hand wrapped around the silky firmness of Sorey’s cock. With his eyes closed he couldn’t have seen it, but it certainly felt beautiful. He wished so much that he could have done more, that he could have let Sorey touch him. Sorey’s conviction that Mikleo was the only solution to the problem at hand, his one dependable friend that could help him through it, someone he was attracted to and held mutual desires for was a deeply satisfying thought.

“Mikleo,” he heard Sorey whine from behind the door. He heard a rustling, a brushing as he looked down and noticed Sorey’s fingertips poking out from below the door.

Mikleo indulged him, using his free hand he pushed his own fingers through the underside of the door. They met in a soft joining, protected by the wall between them as Mikleo was sent over the edge.

As his own seed spilled, he was reminded once again by how warm Sorey’s body had been against his, the wonderful memory of his best friend that would live on in his mind forever. The beautiful arching of his back, the taste of sweat on his skin, the way he chanted his name.

Then came the realization.

_What am I doing?_

_What have I done?_

It wasn’t his memory to have. It was stolen, a first of Sorey’s that should have been his alone. He was marked in Sorey’s memory, Sorey marked in his in a place that neither should have been. He had stolen this first from Sorey, his own agenda overshadowing what was right and wrong.

“Mikleo...” came a soft voice from behind the door. “So beautiful... wow...”

He jerked his hand back. He stared at his shaking hand, realizing what he had done.

In addition to his growing pile of transgressions, he had allowed Sorey to feel the full brunt of his energies. Although it wouldn’t be painful or dangerous it could certainly have been overwhelming. But more importantly, it was personal. It wasn’t something to be shared with friends.

He sobbed loudly in panic, drawing his knees up to his body.

“Mikleo?”

Mikleo clutched his legs tightly, burying his face against his knees.

“Mikleo, are you okay?”

Mikleo tried his best not to make noise as he cried, and failed.

“...You’re not okay, are you?”

_How could I let myself slip like this? I violated my best friend’s trust and betrayed him. I forced my perverted agenda on him, once again. I failed to keep my promise to myself._

He felt the door pushing in behind him. In his haste he had forgotten to lock it, now Sorey was shoving his weight against it. He winced as he scooted forward, knowing he would not win this fight against Sorey. Moving forward allowed Sorey enough space to squeeze through the slightly opened door.

“Mikleo,” he said, kneeling in front of his friend. “It’s okay, I’m here.”

“It’s not okay,” sobbed Mikleo. “I keep hurting you.”

Mikleo peeked up at Sorey. At some point, thankfully, he had put on a pair of pants. But the rest of him... He reeled in panic, scooting back against the door.

“Mikleo, hey, it’s okay,”

“No- I hurt you, I marked you, when did I even, I don’t _remember_ but-”

Sorey stood and looked at himself in the mirror.

“Huh, would you look at that.” Blossoming red and purple marks trailed from the left side of his neck down his shoulder. He sat in front of Mikleo.

“So you did mark me.” Sorey smiled, leaning forward. “It’s fine.”

“You let a _monster_ put their hands on you,” said Mikleo between sobs. “I marked you, I hurt you, and I can’t even remember doing it. I-”

“Shh,” said Sorey. He wrapped his arms around Mikleo. “You’re a wonderful person. I asked for your help, and although I’m grateful, so grateful, I... I pushed you too hard. I’m sorry.”

“Sorey,” cried Mikleo. “Sorey, you’re the last person I want to hurt.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” said Sorey. “I’m fine, we’re fine. If anything, I hurt you.”

“No,” said Mikleo, trying to push away, unable to escape Sorey’s bear-like grip.

“It’s okay.”

Sorey held him tighter, swaying, nudging his forehead against Mikleo’s shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he repeated. “It’s okay.”

Mikleo’s body shuddered with sobs, firmly held by Sorey’s strong arms. They swayed together as he cried. He cried as long as he needed, until his sobs became shuddered breaths, softening further to labored, delicate breathing.

“Hey,” said Sorey quietly. “Feeling any better?”

Mikleo shook his head no.

“I pushed you too much,” said Sorey. “I’m sorry.”

Mikleo mumbled something into his knees.

“What?”

“I broke my promise.”

“What promise?”

Mikleo sighed loudly. “Not to... touch you.”

“It’s fine,-”

“No,” said Mikleo, louder than was necessary. “I can’t control myself. The malevolence has a hold of me, and I can’t... I can’t be trusted. Don’t you understand?”

“It’s alright, you’re safe with me,” said Sorey.

“No,” repeated Mikleo. “You don’t understand. I can’t even keep-” Mikleo sobbed. “I can’t keep a simple promise. I’m broken, Sorey.”

“Ahh, Mikleo.” Sorey swayed with Mikleo, holding him tightly. “You’re not broken.”

“Please,” said Mikleo. “Please, just, listen to me.”

“I’m listening,” said Sorey.

Mikleo swallowed. “Sorey, you know I would- I would do anything for you.”

“I’d do anything for you too, Mikleo.”

Mikleo huffed a breath, thankful to hear those words.

“And you know I can’t say no to you.”

“We take care of each other,” said Sorey.

Mikleo felt his heart twisting in his chest. He was so close to everything he wanted; he could taste it on the tip of his tongue, on Sorey’s breath. And yet, those words he longed to hear were nowhere.

“I need you to promise me you won’t ask me anymore. Not now.”

Sorey nodded slowly, his forehead against Mikleo’s knee.

“If it makes you feel like this, of course I won’t.”

“I need your help,” said Mikleo. “I need you to protect me from myself.”

Sorey chuckled. “Mikleo, you-”

“I’m serious,” said Mikleo. “Promise me.”

“I promise.” He swayed with Mikleo. “I swore an oath to protect you, Mikleo. There’s nothing more important in the world to me.”

“Sorey,” said Mikleo meekly.

“Whatever you need, Mikleo. I’ll be there.”

“Thank you.”

Sorey squeezed a tighter hug. Mikleo let out a tired, exasperated sigh.

“Do you mind if I... can I stay in you tonight? I think I could use the comfort, and I...”

Sorey laughed. “You don’t have to ask. I offered to be your vessel, after all.”

“Yes but-” Mikleo paused. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Let me protect you,” said Sorey. “It’s my oath-sworn duty.”

“I’m sorry,” said Mikleo.

“There’s nothing to apologize for.”

Mikleo took a final deep breath before dissipating his physical form, dissolving into soft blue light and entering Sorey’s chest. Sorey knelt, holding his hand over his heart.

“Mikleo,” said Sorey softly. “Don’t hold back like you always do. Let me in.”

After a moment of hesitation he opened the floodgates, allowing his deep, lingering sadness to pour through Sorey. He felt an immediate reaction, uncontrollable hot tears streaming down Sorey’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he echoed again.

Sorey lifted his hand and kissed the inside of his wrist before wiping his eyes.

“Shh,” he said. “Let me in.”

Sorey’s kind warmth radiated, tracing each tendril of sadness back to his heart. The warmth pulled and separated each tendril, wrapping and tugging as though he was untangling a masterful snarl, the complicated web of Mikleo’s emotion. The warmth encompassed him, leeching the sorrow and hurt from each of Mikleo’s guilt-ridden thoughts. He tried to withdraw, to keep from being a burden but instead found Sorey reaching further, holding him tightly with the warmth of his spirit. He basked in it, held in place, wrapped tightly in a nest of soft, kind energies.

“Better?” asked Sorey.

“...Yeah,” echoed Mikleo.

Sorey nodded. He stood, leaving the bathroom and crawling into bed. He nestled under the covers, laying in the middle of the bed.

“Comfortable?” asked Sorey.

“You don’t have to do this,” said Mikleo.

“I’m pretty tired,” said Sorey. “Do you mind if we go to sleep?”

“Sorey...”

Sorey moved his warm hand over his heart.

“You’re staying here,” said Sorey. “As long as you need. Let me do this for you.”

There was a pause before Mikleo spoke again.

“Thank you.”

Sorey hummed in affirmation, bringing his wrist to his lips and kissing once more. He then curled on his side, closing his eyes.

“Good night, Mikleo.”

“Good night, Sorey.”

 

  


* * *

 

  
  


Sorey stirred in the morning, his eyes blinking open. A broad smile crossed his face, energetic excitement coursing through his body.

“Well good morning,” echoed Mikleo. “Did you sleep well?”

“Good morning,” said Sorey, stretching and sitting up in the bed. “I slept great. How about you? Was it okay?”

Mikleo felt a pang of guilt, quickly dissolved by Sorey’s warmth; the warmth he had been lazily basking in all night.

“I didn’t sleep,” said Mikleo. “I had too much to think about.”

Sorey grumbled and flopped back on the bed.

“But are you okay?”

“Better than before,” echoed Mikleo.

“Glad to hear it,” said Sorey. “You wanna get ready to go?”

Mikleo gathered his energies and softly exited Sorey’s vesselspace. He reemerged in a flash of blue light, sitting beside Sorey on the bed.

“Let’s get going,” said Mikleo. “We don’t want to keep Maotelus waiting.”

  
  


 

* * *

 

  
  


“Three,” said Rose. “I specifically said for three.”

“Lady, I don’t know what to tell you. This is the only carriage I’ve got.”

Rose pinched her nose. “How are we supposed to fit three?”

“Well,” said the Normin, “It’s a Shepherd and two Seraphim, right? Can’t he just-” The normin waved his stubby arms. “Carry them?”

“What seems to be the trouble?” asked Mikleo, walking up with Sorey just behind.

“L-Lord Mikleo!” The Normin bowed, his large head nearly touching the ground. “I’m honored by your wonderful presence.”

“Ah! A Normin!” exclaimed Sorey.

“And don’t tell me - are you his wonderfulness, the Sleeping Shepherd Sorey?”

“That’s me,” said Sorey with a chuckle. “Are you our carriage driver?”

“I sure am,” said the Normin. “Wait a tic. Does that mean the third person-” The Normin turned towards the Sanctuary. The large doors opened, Lailah and Alisha slipping out first, then followed by the blond boy-god.

“M-M-M-Maotelus!” The Normin bowed again. “Lady Rose, why didn’cha tell me?”

Rose chuckled into her fist. “I arranged for a private transport. Can you do it or not?”

“Of- of course, ma’am.”

Sorey chuckled as he jogged up the Sanctuary steps to meet Maotelus. Mikleo smiled, following close behind.

“I’ll be right here,” said Lailah, kneeling and pressing her forehead against Maotelus’. “I’ll always be here, in case you need me.”

“I’ll be fine,” said Maotelus. “We’ll all be just fine.” He pulled back, looking to Mikleo and smiling.

“Are you ready?”

Mikleo smiled warmly. “Of course.”

After what felt like the final set in a long a series of heartfelt hugs, promises and goodbyes, the three travellers crammed into the carriage. They had left the accommodations up to Rose, only mentioning they wanted to head to Pendrago in an unmarked carriage to avoid any flourish. Rose was right to complain, the transport was absolutely too small. Maotelus sat on one small but comfortable bench. Sorey and Mikleo sat across from him on their own bench, legs unavoidably pressed against each other, two grown men far too large to be comfortable in a seat of that size.

Sorey held his hand over his heart and looked at Mikleo, raising his eyebrows. Mikleo shook his head no and leaned away, chin on his fist, staring out the window. The world began to move around them. The small panel of window displayed the cozy cafes, shops and homes that Mikleo had become so accustomed to seeing every day. He smiled sadly, saying a silent goodbye to a place he had called home for so long.

Maotelus watched as well from his own port window, gazing at the world that he protected.

It didn’t take long for Mikleo to doze off, his long restless night catching up to him. He leaned against Sorey’s shoulder with his mouth hanging open. A bump in the road jostled them, his head smacking Sorey’s shoulder as he was startlingly awoken.

“Mikleo, sleep here,” said Sorey, his fist to his heart.

Mikleo grumbled sleepily. He rolled his shoulders before dissipating into blue light, taking residence in Sorey. Once there, he found the blanket of warmth waiting for him. He let it envelop his essence, falling quickly to sleep, safe in his vessel.

  
  
  


* * *

 

  
  
  


When he awoke, softly coming to his senses, he tried to figure out where they were. He felt they were horizontal, laying down on a soft surface. A bed, likely. Blinking eyes gazed at a ceiling he did not recognize.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” came a familiar voice. “You finally awake?”

“Yeah,” echoed Mikleo. “How long was I out?”

“All day,” said Sorey.

“ _All_ day?” repeated Mikleo, worriedly.

Sorey chuckled.

“Yeah,” continued Sorey. “Maotelus is enshrined at the Shrinechurch. Tons of people came to see us, just like Ladylake. We spent the day talking to visitors.” He felt Sorey smile. “You... didn’t wake up for any of that?”

“Sorey,” Mikleo whined. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” said Sorey, scratching his head. “It’s dark outside now. I just got us a room at the Inn and took a quick nap.”

“Huh.”

“What do you say we get some food?” asked Sorey.

“Sounds good,” echoed Mikleo. “If you like, afterwards we can visit the Strelka School of Martial Artes.”

“Do they have archery targets?” asked Sorey.

“They do.”

Sorey hopped out of bed and slung his Shepherd’s cloak over his shoulders.

“Ready?”

Both felt each other’s eagerness to begin their journey, starting with the evening, the city, then achingly soon, the whole world.

“Ready.”

Sorey opened the door and stepped out.


	10. Tarriance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9350 word chapter (つ﹏<)･ﾟ｡ 9 scenes of the start of their travels together. Enjoy!

“Come on, slowpoke!”

“I’m right behind you,” said Sorey.

“Well good,” said Mikleo. “We’re just about there.”

Mikleo hoisted himself to the solid ground just beyond the top of the cliffside and perched, the tails of his coat fluttering behind him in the mountain wind. He extended a helpful hand down to Sorey. Sorey shook his head once before reaching for to grasp Mikleo’s arm, allowing himself to be pulled over the crest.

“We made it,” said Sorey, brushing himself off and smiling brightly.

“We sure did.” Mikleo sniffed the fresh mountain air.

Sorey glanced to his left, then right, gasping at the view.

“This is incredible!” he announced, spinning around and taking a few steps backwards, his Shepherd’s cloak twirling around him. Mikleo took a tense step forward. Every moment scaling the cliff face had been a test of his nerves, a reminder of Sorey’s frailty as a human. As they had climbed the mountain, a series of invisible nets and barriers were whispered in protection behind them. Sorey hadn’t needed or noticed them, thankfully, but it would do well to avoid bruising his ego in mentioning their existence.

The sunset beamed over the horizon, a vivid purple and orange display. Mikleo smiled, and sat cautiously with his feet hung over the side of the cliff. Sorey stood beside him on his right, taking in the sight before sitting down and resting his feet off the cliffside as well.

“This is our world,” said Sorey quietly.

Mikleo nodded. “The world we fought so hard for.”

Sorey smiled sadly. “You did most of the fighting. I kinda...” He scratched the back of his head. “...got away with sleeping on the job.”

Mikleo smiled and elbowed him. “Don’t downplay your sacrifice. Your bravery inspired generations of those who would fight for your cause.” He looked upwards. “We were truly... making history.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think it was worth it?”

“Of course,” said Sorey, without hesitation.

Mikleo hummed in agreement, glancing at Sorey before looking back to the sunset. Sorey fell silent, his eyes scanning along the horizon. Mikleo was content to be beside him, yet troubled by his ever moving mind. The sun moved slowly beyond the horizon, the last of its beams sinking behind the clouds. Sorey rustled, then extended his arm in offering to Mikleo. Mikleo looked down and quirked an eyebrow.

“Is that... cake?”

“Yeah,” said Sorey, smiling ear to ear.

“Did you carry that the whole time?” he asked, gingerly taking his gloves off to pluck the offered slice of cake from Sorey’s hand.

“Sure did,” said Sorey. “Sorry if I was a little slow back there. I didn’t want to smash it.”

Mikleo laughed incredulously. “I thought you had just missed a step.”

“Not a chance,” said Sorey, taking a bite of his own slice of pink frosted cake.

“Where on Earth did you get this?”

“Pendrago, before we left.”

“When?”

“You’re not the only one who can use a spectral cloak,” said Sorey with a chuckle.

Mikleo hummed in disbelief, taking a small bite of the soft pink cake.

“Thanks,” said Mikleo.

Soon the cake was gone. The sky had fallen to dusk, the days growing longer in the late Spring.

“Do you want to set up camp here?” asked Mikleo.

Sorey was silent, gazing across the horizon.

“Sorey?”

Sorey let out a sigh.

“Everything alright?” asked Mikleo.

“Yeah,” said Sorey.

Mikleo felt a melancholy emotional tug from Sorey, strong enough to pain his heart.

“Why are you sad?” asked Mikleo softly.

Sorey turned to Mikleo. His eyes darted about Mikleo’s face.

“Why are you?”

Mikleo drew back before turning away, breaking eye contact. He pulled his gloves back on, one by one, fidgeting with the golden trim.

“I have my reasons,” he replied. He ran his fingers of his left hand across the edge of the glove on his right, nervously tracing the pattern.

“Look, Mikleo... I want to apologize.”

Mikleo looked to his right, catching Sorey’s eyes before breaking contact again. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“No, I...” Sorey sighed. “I’m sorry for the way I acted back in Ladylake.”

“Sorey, that was days ago. You can forget about it-”

“No, it’s... It’s more than what I did that night.”

“I told you, it’s alright. Whatever is bothering you, let it go.”

Sorey shook his head no. “Listen... please.”

Mikleo huffed a nervous laugh to himself. “Fine.”

“I... You and I, we spent a lot of time together growing up. We were inseparable.”

“I remember.” He lowered his lashes fondly in recollection.

“And when you became my Sub Lord, as much as I didn’t want to put you in harm’s way, it felt right. And the first time we armatized, it was...” He laughed gently. “It was natural, you know?”

“We’ve always shared everything,” said Mikleo softly. He smiled, recalling Lailah’s surprise that Sorey had already known his True Name; his best friend had been informed at the first opportunity long ago, in Elysia.

“That’s just it,” said Sorey. “And we’ve been training so much, armatized together that I think sometimes, I forget that...” He paused, furrowing his brow. “I... forget that you and I are two separate people.”

“Sorey,-”

“Please, just let me finish.”

Mikleo fell silent as Sorey continued.

“I forget,” he continued shakily, “That you’re not a part of me. I forget that we have seperate hopes and dreams, even if they align. I know you have your own will, and your own past, and I... I was selfish. I made you do something you were wildly uncomfortable with. And I’m sorry.”

Mikleo blinked.

“Sorey, it’s okay for us to be close.”

“But it’s... I was disrespectful,” he responded. “I totally ignored everything you had been saying. And I ended up... really hurting you. I just, I wanted to tell you I’m sorry, and nothing like that will ever happen again.”

Mikleo winced. As much as he wanted to do anything for Sorey, he was right. The things Sorey had asked for were unacceptable beyond the scope of normal friends. Despite how much he wanted to be with Sorey physically, it could never happen if he couldn’t have his heart; It could never happen so long as he was burdened by the seeds of malevolence in his own.

“Apology accepted,” said Mikleo.

“Thanks,” said Sorey.

“Now that that’s out of the way, do you want to set up camp?”

“Yeah,” said Sorey, standing up and taking a step back from the cliff side. “I’ll gather wood for the fire if you handle the tent.”

“Deal,” said Mikleo, swinging his travel bag over his shoulder.

  
  


* * *

 

  


“Will we be able to get through?” asked Sorey, his fingertips tracing along the carved walls of the Gaferis ruin.

“Of course,” said Mikleo. “Even if the puzzles of the ruin hadn’t been solved, I’d still be able to finagle enough power from Musiphe, Hyanoa and Eumacia to open the doors.”

“You really have grown powerful,” said Sorey.

Mikleo hummed confidently in agreement, keeping his smile to himself. He had always adored Sorey’s praise; this time was no different.

“I’m glad we can take our time,” said Sorey, his hands dropping to his sides. “We had to rush through here the first time.”

“Back then it was full of hellions,” said Mikleo.

“Without them, we’re free to explore.”

Mikleo hummed in agreement. “We were right, by the way.”

“Then this was a tomb for the nobility of the Rolance Empire?”

Mikleo nodded. “Back then it was called Loegres.”

“Oh!” proclaimed Sorey. “Maotelus told me about that.”

“Did he now?” asked Mikleo, walking backwards down the hallway in front of Sorey.

“Yeah,” he said, tapping his chin. “But the architecture is different than that of the Shrinechurch.”

“The Shrinechurch was a much later addition,” said Mikleo with a nod. “This tomb was built for the first Kings of the Loegres empire.”

“How much earlier, I wonder,” said Sorey.

“Loegres was established at the beginning of the Era of Asgard,” said Mikleo. “Perhaps the architecture was influenced more strongly by the previous Era, the Dark Period.” He glanced back at Sorey, catching his best friend’s wild grin.

“What?”

“Did you miss this?” asked Sorey.

Mikleo felt a blushing heat rising in his cheeks.

“Of course I did,” he said, looking away.

“I have to catch up on your education,” said Sorey, “or I’ll never keep you on your toes.”

Mikleo huffed a small laugh. “I think you’ll catch up just fine.”

  
  


* * *

 

  


“So hot,” mumbled Sorey.

“We’re nearly there,” said Mikleo. “The lake’s just beyond those trees.”

Sorey trudged forward, wiping his brow from the quickly beading sweat. The summer sun was relentless. Mikleo grinned, pristine and untouched as ever, his elemental affinity keeping his body temperature unfairly low. Long ago he may have been affected, but his mastery had now become an asset rather than a liability. He swung his braid over his shoulder, a thick simple braid that Sorey had been rather proud of himself for weaving that morning in their tent.

“This way,” he said smugly, bouncing ahead. He heard Sorey groaning behind him. It wasn’t long before they reached the shore of the lake. Mikleo put his hands on his hips, his smile beaming proudly at the sparkling water before them.

“Isn’t it a sight to behold? This was the first lake that inspired me to start collecting sample- What are you doing?”

He caught Sorey in his peripheral vision in a state of half undress, hopping to pull his pants off one leg at a time.

“I’m getting in,” grumbled Sorey. “It’s too hot.”

Mikleo raised his eyebrows. Sorey stumbled out of his pants, the remainder of his clothes and affects scattered on the grass behind him. Sweat glistened on his tanned skin, reddened from the heat. He waded mindlessly into the water to seek his relief. Mikleo chuckled as Sorey clearly found it, a large grin appearing on his face as he submerged up to his neck.

“How’s the water?” asked Mikleo, crouching.

“Incredible,” said Sorey, his eyes closing. He moved backwards in a slow walk until his feet no longer touched the lake floor. “It’s perfect.”

 _Like you,_ thought Mikleo. He shook his head, pushing away the thought.

“Are you getting in?” asked Sorey.

“Yeah,” he said, standing. “Sorey,” he laughed, “You threw your clothes everywhere.”

“It was so hot,” said Sorey. “Sorry.”

Mikleo hummed as he gathered Sorey’s clothes and affects, then turned away from the lake before letting his own bag fall to the floor. He unzipped his cloak.

“Are you coming?”

Mikleo smiled. “I’ll be right in.”

  


* * *

 

 

“We should go,” said Mikleo in a hushed whisper. “The library is about to close.”

“One more chapter,” said Sorey.

“You can finish tomorrow,” whispered Mikleo. “We’re in no rush.”

Sorey grunted dismissively. Mikleo sighed and leaned back in his chair. He caught the eye of one of the two librarians, a young man who had been watching them. Mikleo raised his chin in acknowledgement. The young man averted his eyes and scurried around a corner, out of sight.

“Let’s go,” grumbled Mikleo.

Sorey responded with another dismissive grunt.

“Come on,” whispered Mikleo. “There’s a storm coming. We don’t want to get caught in it.”

Sorey closed his book and made an annoyed face at Mikleo. “Fine,” he whispered. “Help me put these books back so we can find them tomorrow morning.”

Mikleo stood wordlessly and got to work. He shelved a portion of their pile of books before hearing the telltale pitter patter of increasingly stronger rain, as might be expected in the fall. He shook his head in dismay and helped Sorey finish the task.

They made their way to the front, both librarians standing near the door. The woman wrang her hands together, pulled tightly against the chest of her polka-dotted dress as the man looked worriedly on. He wore a dress shirt and soft pants, both were clearly unexpectant of any inclement weather. The rainfall had increased to a raging storm, sheets of rain assaulting the roof. By the sounds of it, no umbrella would be sufficient to shield from this storm.

“Well,” said Mikleo, “This is not ideal.”

“Sorry for staying so late,” Sorey said to the two staff.

“It’s not like you can control the weather,” said the young man, folding his arms. His soft brown hair fell over one eye.

“No, I can’t fight the will of Amenoch,” said Mikleo with a quirk of his eyebrow. “But I can offer to keep you dry for your journey home.”

“I’m not far,” said the young woman, nervously tugging at one of her two pigtails, matching ribbons gracing her naturally curly black hair. “Neither is he, if I recall. We’d be so grateful if you could help us get home safe.”

“Will the cloak work?” asked Sorey, tapping his chin.

“I don’t see why not,” said Mikleo. “It should fit two easily.”

“It’s settled then!” said Sorey excitedly, standing arms akimbo. “I’ll walk you home,” he said, gesturing to the young woman, “And you can walk him home. We’ll meet up at the Inn.”

“Oh, thank you, Great Shepherd,” said the woman. She slipped her hand around Sorey’s forearm.

“I’m happy to help!” said Sorey with a smile. “Lead the way.”

She pushed open the door, revealing the torrential downpour awaiting them. “This way,” she said, pointing. In an instant, they vanished.

“I suppose you’re with me,” said Mikleo. He waved his hand, a curtain of rain pushing aside. The water streamed away from the cobblestones before them, creating a dry path for them to follow. He stepped outside, the young man following close behind.

“Which way?” asked Mikleo.

The man shut and locked the library doors behind them. He then turned and pointed wordlessly. Mikleo nodded and followed the path. They walked together, the young man trailing slightly behind. The curtain followed them, leaving both untouched by the pounding rain.

“You’re quiet,” said Mikleo, speaking loud enough to be heard over the patter of rain on cobblestones. “Is it of fear or reverence, I wonder?”

The man folded his arms and narrowed his eyes.

“I see,” said Mikleo.

They walked together in silence before reaching the doorstep of what Mikleo could only assume was the young man’s home. The man stood, arms still tightly folded.

“Glad you made it home safe,” said Mikleo with a smile. “I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Grand Seraph,” he said, hardly loud enough to be heard over the rain. “Is it true?”

“Is what true?” asked Mikleo.

“What they say about you. What you did... what happened to Gabriel.”

Mikleo sighed a deep sigh. “I feared as much. Then the people of Horsa have still not forgiven me.” He looked away. “What is it they say about me, young one?”

“That you stole years from his life. That you possessed him, like a demon.”

Mikleo gripped his arm tightly. “Tell me, young one. Have you ever made a mistake?”

“Of course I have,” said the young librarian. “We all have. But my mistakes have never weighed such a strong toll on someone else.”

“You’ve not carried the weight of the world,” Mikleo said softly. “I’ve sacrificed many of my own years for our dream, for humans and Seraphim to live together in peace.”

“But what did poor Gabriel do to deserve it?”

“He offered to be my Shepherd,” said Mikleo simply. “I should have said no. I know that now. I should have known better, that he couldn’t handle my spiritual power. I should have...” He lowered his head, silvery bangs obscuring his eyes. “I should have broken the pact sooner.” He turned to look the young man in the eye. “Malevolence was rampant. Without a Shepherd, without a pact, there was no purification. There were hardly any with resonance to see us, let alone those suitable to become Shepherds.”

“His own mother despised me, even before our pact. She had renounced the Seraphim as demons. Without resonance she couldn’t see what her son believed, in a bright future where we could live together in peace. A world free of rampant malevolence.”

“We made the pact and he fell into slumber. Three days was what we expected. But day four passed without a hint of recovery. Then day five, and he still hadn’t awoken. I...selfishly waited to see if he would be able to handle it, against better judgment. I broke the pact on day seven. It was another six months before he reawoke. I...” He trailed off. “By then it was too late. His mother had proclaimed that her son had been possessed, and my name became a slur. It seems even hundreds of years later, I’m still unwanted in this town.”

He looked back to the young man, pleading forgiveness with his eyes. “Tell me, have you ever wondered why the Library of Horsa has such an impressive collection?”

“It’s... been around a long time,” said the young man.

“It has, thanks to being the recipient of several impressive grants and donations from Diphda Academy. It was the least I could do from a distance. This is my first time back in Horsa since then.” He smiled sadly. “The Great Shepherd wanted to visit. Who am I to say no to him?”

The young librarian grimaced. “Is he ...alright? With being vessel to your terrible power?”

“I never meant to hurt Gabriel,” reminded Mikleo, clutching his arm. “He was only trying to do what he believed was right. But he didn’t have the affinity. It was no fault of either of us, but I should have known better. Sorey is strong. He was born with great resonance and spiritual potential. He believes in the sacrifices he’s made.”

“But are you hurting him?”

Mikleo grimaced. “He’s my best friend,” he said softly. “There’s nothing left to purify. Truly if he did not wish to be my vessel, there would be no need for it.” Mikleo huffed a laugh. “He demanded it, in fact. It brings him no pain.”

The young man looked away.

“I suppose that’s that, then,” said Mikleo. “I’m glad you made it home safe.”

The young man looked away, dissatisfied.

“Hey, Mikleo!”

Mikleo turned to see Sorey, jogging closer within Mikleo’s large shroud of protection.

“Have a good night, young man.”

“Good night,” said the man, slipping into his home. He shut the door tightly behind him.

Mikleo walked alongside Sorey in silence.

“Everything okay?” asked Sorey.

“I’d like to leave tonight,” said Mikleo. “We can come back another time.”

“But there’s more books I want to read,” said Sorey.

“We can find copies elsewhere.”

Sorey stopped.

“I heard what you were talking about,” said Sorey.

Mikleo froze, fear gripping his heart. “Oh.”

Gabriel was another puzzle piece in the mess that was Mikleo’s sordid past; a mistake in a long history of error and misjudgment.

“I think,” started Sorey, “There’s always going to be people that don’t understand us,” he said. “The path we walk can be lonely sometimes.” He suddenly smiled brightly. “But we believe in it, don’t we? Don’t let it get you down.”

“Can we go?” asked Mikleo, his heart melting ever so slightly. Leave it to Sorey to not just accept him and his past, but to fully understand and relate as well.

“I’d like to stay another few days,” said Sorey. “You said yourself, we’re in no rush. So please, let’s take our time.”

“Fine,” he mumbled.

He felt Sorey’s hand slip into his as they continued their walk to the inn, shrouded by Mikleo’s curtain of protection.

It wasn’t long until they reached their destination. They ate their provisions and received a key to their room, a humble accomodation with two small beds. Mikleo dropped his bag on the floor and dressed down, climbing into the bed on the left. Sorey repeated the action with the bed on the right. The lights were soon snuffed, both men lay in silent darkness.

After several minutes of tossing and turning, he heard Sorey speak.

“Restless?”

Mikleo grumbled.

“Sleep here,” suggested Sorey. Despite the darkness between them, Mikleo knew Sorey was holding his hand over his heart.

“You sure?” asked Mikleo, knowing after the words dropped from his lips that it was a tell; Sorey would now be sure to know his own heart was filled with turmoil.

“Please,” said Sorey. “I’d prefer it to sleeping alone.”

Mikleo took a deep breath before allowing his physical form to dissipate, his wisped essence flitting to Sorey before hesitantly pouring into his chest. He lazily filled Sorey, wrapped in the soft warmth of his comfort. He felt the palm of Sorey’s hand softly rubbing against his chest.

“You’re still thinking about what he said to you,” said Sorey softly.

“I just wish they could forgive me. I’ve given so much.”

“They don’t understand,” said Sorey. “You have to look past that and give them the forgiveness you seek.”

“It’s easy for you to say,” echoed Mikleo. “No one questions your sacrifice.”

“Ahh Mikleo,” said Sorey. “Don’t worry about it too much. The world has changed, and that’s all that matters. Right?”

No response.

“There’s no reason to feel sad,” said Sorey.

“Generations later and I’m still a pariah.”

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

“Don’t,” echoed Mikleo. “I can fight my own battles.”

“I can vouch for you,” said Sorey. “I’m human. The people respect me.”

“And they don’t respect me,” echoed Mikleo.

“That’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what you meant.”

He felt Sorey’s frustration welling at first, then dissipating.

“I respect you,” he said in a near whisper. “I know what you’ve done. How much you’ve sacrific-”

“You _don’t_ know what I’ve done,” echoed Mikleo.

“Fine. I don’t know how you got there, but I know what you’ve accomplished. I know you’re a good person, because of you the world was purified much faster than Maotelus and I could do alone. The lives and suffering of many were spared. All because of how hard you worked.”

Mikleo grumbled.

“And I know you’re tired.” He felt Sorey’s warmth closing in on him, holding his essence tightly. Sorey’s body shifted as well, softly rubbing his cheek against his pillow, clutching another against his body. “I know if I didn’t say something, you’d let this keep you awake all night. So please, forget about it for now, and find some rest.”

Mikleo let go ever so slightly. It was easy to find serenity within Sorey. He fell silent.

“Sleep well,” mumbled Sorey, gently kissing the inside of his wrist.

  
  


* * *

 

  


“Wow,” said Sorey. “Did someone come and fix this place up?”

“Yes,” said Mikleo, turning to smile gently at Sorey. “Diphda Academy funds restoration of all spiritual shrines. It’s only natural that Guinevere would be included.”

“Wow,” repeated Sorey. “These walls were crumbled before.” His breath was visible in the cool winter air. He wrapped his arms around himself, shivering slightly in his parka.

“With the help of the Seraphim, we were able to restore the tower to its former glory. A few more centuries of disarray, and it may have fallen to the ground. There’s no telling,” said Mikleo, taking a few steps towards the entrance. “Better safe than sorry.”

Sorey stood still, holding his arms out in front of him. “We fought Zaveid here,” he said, gesturing before him. “Man, that guy was something else back then.”

“He sure was,” said Mikleo. “Now, I’m proud to call him family.”

“I’m glad we got to know him.”

“Me too.”

Sorey looked down. “We didn’t get that chance with Dezel.”

Mikleo paused before apprehensively reaching his hand to Sorey’s back.

“I’d have liked to have known him better too,” said Mikleo, rubbing his hand on his friend’s back in comfort.

“Yeah.” He huffed a sigh. “We... lost a lot of good people along the way.”

“It didn’t stop when you went to sleep,” said Mikleo. “But because of their noble sacrifices, order was restored to the world. We’re where we are today, with malevolence greatly at bay.”

“Yeah,” said Sorey. He closed his eyes and nodded. He seemed deep in thought. Finally, he reopened his eyes and looked to the top of the tower, shielding his eyes from the winter sun with his hand.

“Do you still want to go in?” asked Mikleo.

“Yeah,” said Sorey. “Let’s go.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

  
  


“Do you remember this place?”

“Westronbolt Gorge?” asked Sorey.

“Yeah. It was a lot more dreary our first visit,” said Mikleo. “It really perked up after the malevolence was lifted. It’s looked like this for hundreds of years now. Quite a difference.”

Westronbolt Gorge was beautiful in the springtime. The change reminded Mikleo of the Camlann crater; what was once barren grayed land was now a field of waving grass and flowers, some curated, some wild.

Sorey stopped suddenly and knelt, putting his hands to the ground. Mikleo stood watching as Sorey’s hands smoothed against the soft, flowing grass.

“Maotelus and I, we...” He closed his eyes. “This is what we were purifying. The Earth itself, from the inside out.”

Mikleo knelt next to Sorey. Sorey smiled briefly before his expression returned to solemnity.

“It was in so much pain before,” said Sorey quietly, his voice shaking. In the year they had travelled together, Sorey rarely spoke of what he experienced within the Earthpulse beyond dreams.

“Did you have to feel that pain?” asked Mikleo.

Sorey shook his head no. “I knew it was there. You could feel it, almost hear it like a sad song. Maotelus can comprehend it in a way I could never.”

Mikleo remained silent. After a few minutes, Sorey sat back onto the ground, cross legged. Mikleo followed his lead and sat beside him.

“Instead of heading to the Ganglen ruins right away, do you think we could do some training here?”

“Armatized?” asked Mikleo.

“Yeah,” said Sorey. “I think I can reach Maotelus from here. We spent a lot of time healing this place, together.”

“Perhaps there’s an Earthpulse leyline nearby,” said Mikleo. “Of course we can.”

Sorey leaned his head against Mikleo’s shoulder and grinned wildly before whispering his True Name.

  


 

* * *

 

  
  


Mikleo nodded awake, blinking his eyes open against Sorey’s back. The gentle trot of the horse must have rocked him to sleep.

“Hey,” he said groggily, leaning back. His hands were lazily draped around Sorey’s waist, holding him in place atop the horse.

“Well good morning, sleepyhead,” said Sorey, despite the sky clearly indicating the late afternoon sun. He slid his hand over Mikleo’s left, gripping it softly. “How was your nap?”

“Still tired,” said Mikleo. “Where are we?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” said Sorey. “We’ve been following this path for a few hours.”

“We can stop at the next town,” Mikleo sniffed the the thick, humid summer air of the wetlands. “S’nice here,” he mumbled, settling his cheek against Sorey’s shoulder.

Sorey gently patted his hand against Mikleo’s.

“I think I see a sign up ahead.”

“Mmm.”

Mikleo had hardly nodded back to sleep before he felt Sorey tensing, sitting up unusually straight.

“What?” mumbled Mikleo.

“Maybe we shouldn’t stop here,” he said quietly.

Mikleo let out a soft sleeping sound as he leaned around Sorey to read the sign.

“Welcome to... Oh.”

“We’ll keep going,” said Sorey.

“It’s fine,” said Mikleo. “I didn’t realize we had travelled this far West.” Sensing tension from Sorey, he continued. “It was one dream,” he lied. “I don’t mind stopping in Rodine. Really.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” Sorey asked, apprehensive. “I don’t want to bring back any bad memories.”

“I’m sure it’s a different town by now,” he said, glancing around. The cobblestone path had curved around several tall trees native to the wetlands, revealing a quaint main street with an inn just ahead of them.

Sorey must have accepted his answer as he silently guided the horse towards the inn. He stabled their horse and checked into a room. They entered the room, Sorey claiming the bed on the right as always, dropping his bag by the foot of the bed before sitting on it. Mikleo mirrored the same action, watching Sorey curiously.

“You can stay here,” said Sorey. “I’d like to look around, if that’s okay.”

Mikleo huffed a laugh. Despite his concern, Sorey couldn’t stop his curiosity. “It’s fine, really. I’ll come with. Besides, I’d rather not be alone,” he said, clutching his arm.

Sorey looked back at him with pleading eyebrows before conceding and bouncing towards the door. Mikleo followed in earnest, his own curiosity itching.

They followed the main path southward, the dusk sun quickly setting to their right. He sniffed the air again, revelling in the thick humidity of early Summer. He felt a tickle in his ears from the shrill wails and stuttered croaks of various insects and swampland creatures.

“How long did you live here?” asked Sorey.

“Couple of months,” said Mikleo. “The better part of a year.”

Sorey hummed before stopping, turning to admire the architecture of a nearby house. The stone house stood strong behind a wooden picket fence. Vivid moss was embedded between every crack and crevice of the stones. Sorey’s hand raised to his chin, his fingers tapping curiously.

“How long ago was this built?” asked Sorey.

“Between five and six hundred years,” said Mikleo. “It’s human made.”

“No Seraphic construction?”

Mikleo shook his head. “No. Seraphs dare not tread the wetlands back then, at least not long enough to make it their home. It was a struggle to find one willing to offer their blessing as Lord of the Land.”

Mikleo was nearly interrupted by the sudden sound of a chain rattling and a snarling dog, barking viciously as it lept towards him. The large brown dog was held only by the taut chain and rickety fence. Mikleo shrunk backwards, bumping into Sorey’s arm behind him. Sorey guided him to turn, facing away from the house.

“It’s alright,” said Sorey calmly, “They can’t touch you.” He looked back and frowned at the dog. “Let’s go.”

They continued down the cobblestone path.

“Sorry,” mumbled Mikleo, blushing in embarrassment.

“Don’t sweat it,” said Sorey. “That dog was pretty scary for anyone.”

His heart fluttered. Sorey was genuine and thoughtful, remembering his deep, somewhat irrational fear of dogs. Sorey was earnest in making good on his promise of protection, even in the simplest of gestures.

“What’s that?” asked Sorey, pointing at a stone pedestal before a small cottage at the southern end of the path. He released Mikleo’s back and jogged ahead, quick to read the plaque affixed atop the pedestal. Mikleo looked up at the house and froze.

“Historic Preservation Society of Rodine,” read Sorey. “The Humble Town of Rodine Honors the Protection and Service of-” His voice quieted. “The Grand Seraph of Water, Mikleo.”

Mikleo clutched his arm tightly.

Sorey laughed nervously, turning to face his friend. “They made your house a monument.”

“So they have.”

Sorey turned back to the plaque, reading slowly at first, then picking up speed. “This cottage was briefly home to the Grand Seraph during his travels. The Town of Rodine has been blessed with his outstanding contribution to purification and unification.”

“No mention of a Shepherd,” he mumbled. He gave the cottage a passing glance, noting the well-manicured still present trellises and thatched roof.

“We can go,” said Sorey.

Mikleo rolled his eyes. “The house doesn’t scare me, Sorey. Besides, I can tell you’re curious to go in.”

Sorey grinned, pleading with his eyebrows. “Can I?”

Mikleo shrugged. “Be my guest.”

Sorey smiled at his friend, his eyes shining before heading curiously into the house. After a few moments, Mikleo shook his head, following his friend.

He stood in the doorway, leaned against the door frame. Glancing around dismissively, he looked to the desk in the far corner.

 _That’s where I used to write. I spent so many days and nights alone at that damned desk._ _He’d shuffle my papers and slip his own notes between mine. It drove me mad._

He laughed dismissively as Sorey flitted from one side of the small cottage to the other. He looked side eyed at the kitchen.

_That’s where he used to starve me._

He huffed contemptuously, rolling his eyes to see the other side of the cottage through a doorway where the bed still stood, neatly made.

_That’s where he used to-_

His breathing shallowed as he pursed his lips. His heartbeat quickened uncontrollably. Sorey perked up, turning to his friend.

“It was a mistake to come here,” he said.

“No, it’s ok, I’m-”

“No,” said Sorey, guiding Mikleo out of the home and shutting the door behind them. He held Mikleo’s arms with both hands. “We can go. We can leave this town.”

Mikleo shut his eyes tightly. “It’s fine.”

“You’re clearly not fine,” said Sorey. He put his hand to his chest. “Here. Let me protect you-”

“I don’t need your constant protection,” he said sadly. “I won’t be a burden to you.”

“But my oath-”

“Says _nothing_ of protecting me. Only that your life is bound to mine. That’s all.”

Sorey put his fist to his mouth and turned away, facing the house. The swampland creatures continued to buzz and croak as the sun faded in the dusk sky.

“But it’s my fault,” he said softly.

“It’s fine,” said Mikleo. “You didn’t know where we were.”

“No, I mean- If I had been there, none of that would have happened.”

“Sorey, we’ve been over this, you couldn’t have been there-”

“I could have,” interrupted Sorey. “I could have sworn my oath long ago. I could have- I could have stayed with you.”

Mikleo’s heart twisted painfully in his chest. “Then who would have been Maotelus’ vessel? Who would have purified the Earth?” He grimaced. “You were the only one that could. You knew that when you did it. Do you think I wanted you to go?”

“Of course not. But-”

“It was the right choice,” continued Mikleo. “Everything is as it should be. We all made sacrifices. It just happens that yours and mine took heavy tolls.”

“I would have never let anything happen to you,” said Sorey abruptly. “I would have kept you safe from people like him.”

Mikleo frowned.

“I walked into his arms willingly.” He spoke in a soft daze, then laughed to himself. “Everyone around me saw what was happening. They tried to stop me. They tried to- They tried to save me.” He huffed.  “It’s not like you’re my only friend.”

Sorey looked down and fiddled with the feathers on his glove.

“I know, and I’m grateful to them,” said Sorey. “I just can’t help but think that if I were there, things could have gone... differently.”

“There’s no sense dwelling on the past,” said Mikleo softly. “We’re here now.”

Sorey nodded, then looked to the sky. He smiled for a moment before letting it fade into determination. He held his hand over his heart.

“Yeah,” said Sorey. “We’re here now. So please, let me do my duty as both your Shepherd and friend. I won’t let you suffer alone.”

“Sorey,-”

“Please.”

Mikleo took a few deep breaths before stubbornly dissolving into a wisp, entering Sorey’s vessel space. He felt Sorey’s modest surprise before sinking into his warmth.

“I’ll get us out of here,” said Sorey, starting the trek back towards the inn.

“We don’t have to leave,” he softly echoed.

“Then... I’ll get us something to eat.”

“Sounds good. And maybe we can visit the Lord of the Land before we go.”

“I’d like that.”

  
“And... thanks.”

Mikleo bathed in the warmth of Sorey’s kind smile.

  


 

* * *

 

  
  


Mikleo blinked awake, greeted by the clear blue of the early morning sky. Yawning, he stretched to see Sorey asleep in his bedroll beside him. On a clear night like last, they had decided to forgo the tent and set up camp right under the stars. Sorey had fallen asleep recounting the late summer constellations. He smiled at the memory.

It had been over a year since they had started travelling together. Their travels had been largely pleasant thus far, no major pitfalls other than the occasional easily resolved quarrel here and there. It was going as well as he could reasonably hope. He felt happy. Sorey seemed to be happy too, as far as he could tell.

Mikleo smiled at Sorey’s sleeping form, finally breaking his gaze and sitting up. He rummaged through his bag for a moment, then quietly climbed out of his bedroll. He walked a few yards from the clearing, finding the water’s edge of the lake and sat on the sand.

The gentle waves of the lake lapped at his toes, the hem of his soft white pants wicking the warm summer water. The rising sunshine danced across the pale skin of his bare chest. He hummed in contentment, bringing his hands in front of himself. He held a small object he had gathered from his bag, a wooden block with several delicate flat metal lamellae attached in a neat row. He ran his fingers across the object before plucking at one of the metal keys with his thumb. It resonated a soft, hollow tone. Gazing out at the calm lake, he thumbed a soothing melody, the tones ringing in the clear morning air.

In the middle of his third song, Sorey sat beside him.

“Good morning,” he said, between notes.

Sorey hummed in acknowledgement and rested his head on Mikleo’s shoulder. Mikleo smiled and lowered his lashes, finishing the last verse of his song. He rested his hands and instrument in his lap. Sorey nudged him gently. Mikleo leaned his head against Sorey’s.

“I’ve always remembered this lake when thinking of retirement,” he confessed. “I’d be honored to stand as it’s guardian. It’s always brought me peace.”

“You don’t seem the retiring type,” said Sorey softly.

Mikleo hummed. “I suppose not.”

Sorey held out his hand. Mikleo obliged, placing the small instrument in his.

“What is it called?” asked Sorey, turning the instrument over in his hand.

“It’s a kalimba,” said Mikleo. “Hold it like this.” He cupped his hands over Sorey’s, guiding his thumbs into place and plucking a few notes. Sorey repeated the plucking motion, the vibrating keys resonating in the air like wind chimes. Sorey hummed in satisfaction before handing the kalimba back to Mikleo. Mikleo ran his thumbs across the lamellae once again before starting his fourth song.

“Dozmary Lake’s not big enough.” Sorey wrinkled his nose and sniffed.

“Huh?”

“You could stand guardian for the whole ocean if you wanted to,” said Sorey sleepily.

Mikleo blushed, looking away. “I’m flattered, but that’s not quite the point of retirement.”

Sorey huffed a laugh. “Exactly.”

“You know me so well.”

“Better than anyone,” said Sorey.

Mikleo wondered if that was true.

  
  
  


 

* * *

 

  
  


“Do you think he’s watching us?”

“I do,” said Mikleo, kneeling next to his friend.

“Do you think he’d be proud of us?”

“I know he’d be proud of you,” said Mikleo. “You were exactly what the world needed. What he raised you to be.”

Sorey smiled. “He’d be proud of you too, Mikleo. For the same reason.”

Mikleo hummed in agreeance, standing before the large carved stone pillar. He touched it briefly, the fingertips of his glove tracing the relief before dropping.

“Maybe.”

“I bet he’d be proud to see how tall we’ve grown,” said Sorey cheekily.

“You’d better stop growing,” said Mikleo. “You’ve nearly caught up to me.”

Sorey smiled and hummed in contentment. “I’m glad I got to see this place before it totally falls apart. I wish I had seen it in all its glory.”

“We’ll do our best to preserve it.” Mikleo paused. “Gramps was quite powerful indeed. Between here and Elysia, I wonder how many other shrines to him were lost to the ages.”

“I bet a lot,” said Sorey, standing.

Mikleo hummed. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Thanks for taking me here.”

“Of course,” said Mikleo, starting the walk down the spiral staircase. He was glad to help Sorey gain a touch more closure, and pay respect to the man they both called their Gramps. They reached the base of the tower together. Mikleo quirked an eyebrow.

“What’s going on here?” asked Sorey, glancing around the main street in wonderment.

“It would appear they’ve been decorating for the annual Lohgrin Cider Festival,” said Mikleo, reading the banners now hung on decoratively on the main street lamp posts.

“A festival!” exclaimed Sorey. “Can we go?”

“I don’t see why not,” said Mikleo, heading towards the inn. “Let’s drop off our things and check it out.”

Sorey bounced excitedly ahead, offering to open each door before them. After dropping their bags and gloves off at the inn, they were free to explore.

“This way,” pointed Mikleo. He had the pleasure of attending the Cider Festival a number of times throughout his years. He hoped there would be local cuisine, and of course, plenty of drink.

Crowds had begun to form under the brightly strung festival lights, shining against the early fall evening. Minstrels were playing their instruments in the distance. Barmaids were dressed in vibrant outfits, chatting amongst each other at the central outdoor bar.

“Wow,” said Sorey. “Who would have thought Lohgrin would have grown enough to host something like this?”

“It really is something,” said Mikleo. “Here, let me buy you a cider.”

“Is it like beer?” asked Sorey, wrinkling his nose.

“It’s tastier,” said Mikleo. “You’ll like it.” He guided them to the bar, sitting at a barstool.

“What’ll it be, my Lords?” asked the barmaid. She smiled vibrantly, her blonde hair in two playful pigtails.

“Two ciders,” said Mikleo.

“Keep a tab or close it out?”

“Let’s start a tab,” said Mikleo.

“Of course, my Lords,” she said. She returned with two very full pint glasses of cider.

“Cheers,” he said to Sorey, handing him one.

“To Gramps?” asked Sorey, raising his glass.

“To Gramps.” He smiled before taking a sip.

Sorey hummed. “This is much better than beer.”

“I thought you might like it.”

Sorey turned to see the crowds, taking in the sights of the festival. Mikleo leaned back against the bar, raising his eyes to the sky. He sipped at his beverage and turned back to Sorey’s barstool, finding it unexpectedly empty.

Mikleo stood and scanned the crowds, quickly spotting the back of Sorey’s Shepherd’s cloak. He was busily tapping a large man on the shoulder. Mikleo grabbed his pint glass and headed towards Sorey.

“Excuse me,” he heard Sorey say as he wove closer in the crowd. The large man turned around.

“Can I help you?”

“Are you a Woodsman?” asked Sorey.

“Why yes, I am,” said the man. “Who’s asking?”

“I’m Sorey!” he said excitedly, holding out his hand.

“Silas,” said the large man, shaking his hand. “Sorey as in the Shepherd Sorey?”

“One and the same!” Sorey beamed excitedly. “Hundreds of years ago we called on the help of the Woodsmen. They helped us out big time.”

“Did you now,” said Silas, patting Sorey on the back, guiding him towards a group of other similarly dressed men in sleeveless white collared shirts that Mikleo could only assume were Woodsmen as well. Sorey turned, pointing at Mikleo.

“That’s Mikleo!” said Sorey excitedly, taking a sip of his cider. “He was there too.”

“A round of drinks for the Shepherd and Grand Seraph?” said another man.

A cheer travelled through the small crowd of men. Mikleo relaxed a touch, glad to see Sorey’s charm in easily making friends was not lost.

“Grand Seraph,” said another man, gently punching Mikleo’s shoulder. “Tell us of your travels.”

Several more drinks, stories and rounds of arm wrestling later, Mikleo leaned back in his chair. He smiled, listening to the sounds of merriment and conversation.

“Hey Sorey,” he said, getting his friends attention. Sorey perked up and leaned towards him from across the table. He smiled a goofy, relaxed smile.

“You want another drink?” asked Mikleo, raising his glass.

“I’m good for now,” he said over the crowd.

Mikleo stood and wandered to the bar. He sat in front of the barmaid from earlier.

“A refill, my Lord?” asked the barmaid.

“Yeah,” he said. “Thank you.”

“Keep your tab open?” she asked, sliding him another pint glass of cider.

He took a sip of cider, wrinkling his brow. “How many kegs are there for this event?”

“Eleven or twelve, my Lord.”

“And how many drinks can be served per keg?”

She leaned back, thoughtful. “Is this a trick question, or are you genuinely curious?”

“Just doing some math in my head.”

“About ninety, my Lord.”

He furrowed his brow then reached into a pocket, hidden on the inside of his coat. He pulled out a few gald coins of large denomination. The barmaid gasped, seeing the amount laid on the bartop.

“Pay off everyone’s tabs,” said Mikleo. “This should be enough to cover the night.”

The barmaid blinked a few times incredulously. “You’re sure.”

“It’s nothing to me,” said Mikleo. “And the world to some. Please.”

“You’re not just doing this because you’re drunk,” said the barmaid.

“Please. The Grand Seraph has a much higher tolerance than that.”

“I’ll see to it that everyone’s tabs are paid,” said the barmaid.

“And split the rest between the staff,” said Mikleo. “I’d rather not have the recognition if you don’t mind. I look forward to this event every year I’m able to attend.”

“Thank you, Grand Seraph.”

Mikleo nodded and stood, taking a sip of the cider before scanning the crowd for Sorey. Sorey was sitting at the same table with the Woodsmen, talking to a young man, lithe and tan with dark curls of hair. He watched their conversation for a moment. Sorey said something and the young man began to laugh. He covered his smiling mouth with his hand, then rested the same hand on Sorey’s forearm.

Mikleo took another sip of his drink and narrowed his eyes.

Sorey leaned towards the boy and smiled.

Mikleo took another swallow.

The boy said something else, the hand on Sorey’s arm moving back and forth.

Mikleo finished his drink, and sat back down.

“My my my,” said the barmaid. “You weren’t lying about your tolerance. Another?”

Sorey was clearly being flirted with - or worse - _flirting_ with another man. He wanted to storm over and pull Sorey away. He wanted to yank him by the arm and leave with him to never return. He couldn’t let Sorey be that friendly with someone else. But he would be a bad friend himself if he intervened. He didn’t know what to do, how to deal with the situation at hand. He took a deep breath and decided on a familiar, well-practiced approach.

“Have you got any whiskey?” asked Mikleo.

“I’ve got a bottle of special reserve if you’d like.”

“Straight up, please.”

She silently poured the whiskey, watching him, intrigued as he dropped several ice cubes from his fingertips into the glass. He took the first swig, savoring the flavor of the whiskey before returning to watching Sorey and the tan young man. The man was running his svelte fingers on the feathers of Sorey’s earrings. Mikleo’s stomach twisted in disgust.

Another swig, and the whiskey was gone. He set the glass on the bartop.

The barmaid quirked an eyebrow and refilled his drink.

“You want to tell me what’s bothering you?” she asked, leaning forward.

“They’re flirting,” mumbled Mikleo.

“Which one?” asked the barmaid, looking towards where Mikleo was watching. “Ah,” she said, spotting Sorey. “I see your Shepherd.”

“What’s it look like to you?” asked Mikleo.

“Well,” said the barmaid, leaning against her elbow. “It looks like he’s met Rodrigo.”

“He has a name,” said Mikleo, sipping his whiskey. “Great.”

“Easy on that,” said the barmaid. “I’ve only got so much.”

Mikleo grumbled, setting the glass on the bartop. He narrowed his eyes at the man that must have been Rodrigo. Rodrigo was running the back of his hand up and down Sorey’s forearm. And Sorey was doing nothing to stop him.

“He’s the son of one of the Woodsmen,” continued the barmaid. “Just turned eighteen and officially joined. Follows them around like a puppy dog.” She laughed to herself. “And this, this explains why no woman has held his attention.”

“Great,” he said, coyly finishing his drink.

Rodrigo had wrapped his fingers between Sorey’s in a simulated arm wrestle. His mouth was curved in a soft, charming smile, dark curls framing his face.

 _Those are my hands to hold_ , thought Mikleo. _Stop touching him._

Sorey turned.

Mikleo swivelled quickly back to the barmaid, watching her refill his drink.

“You must be thirsty,” she said. “That’s half the bottle, my Lord.”

“Did he catch me staring?”

“Don’t think so,” she said, leaning forward. “He’s not looking anymore.”

He closed his eyes, listening to and steadying his own heartbeat, pushing Sorey’s away as far as he could.

“He looked like he was wondering where you went,” said the barmaid. “He probably wanted to make sure you didn’t get lost.”

“S’what I feel like doing,” mumbled Mikleo, swirling the ice cubes in his glass around before downing the drink.

 _Is that his type?_ wondered Mikleo. He looked down at the pale skin of his hands against the glass of dark whiskey, disgusted with himself. He grimaced. _I was a twerp at that age. It's no wonder he was never interested._

“This is the last one I’m pouring for you, my Lord,” she said, making good on her word and refilling his glass.

He stared towards Sorey and Rodrigo, his view obscured by several people walking between them.

“The last one I’ll need,” he said. He raised the glass, draining it empty it and standing. He held out his hand. “The bottle, please.”

The barmaid pursed her lips and apprehensively handed him the bottle. Mikleo smiled wearily, grasping the bottle by the neck and wandering away. He needed to go, to get away from the noise, away from Sorey and away from his own failures. He sipped from the bottle and walked away from the festival, towards the darkness of night.

That was the last thing he clearly remembered; the rest of the evening was a blur.

He found himself waking slowly. It must have been the next morning. He opened his eyes, facing the center of the room. He had somehow made it back to the inn. His consciousness returned unhurried, breathing in slow horror as he was unable to recollect anything beyond that point. He shifted his body, then paused.

“Sorey?” he said worriedly.

“Mmm,” mumbled Sorey.

His heartbeat began to rise. He slowly moved the warm comforter off his chest. Arms draped around his torso, thankfully, Sorey’s and not some stranger. That was a relief, at least. What wasn’t was Sorey’s body fully pressed against his backside holding him tightly, his leg between Mikleo’s. He frowned, pulling the comforter off further, discovering that he was naked.

Panicked, he scrambled out of the bed, pulling the comforter off the both of them. He struggled to stand and ended up on the floor, the blanket covering his dignity. His head pounded.

“Well good morning,” laughed Sorey. “Feeling better?”

“Did anything happen?” demanded Mikleo.

“Wha-”

“Why am I naked?” asked Mikleo. “Why are you-”

Sorey bellowed a hearty laugh, pulling the flat sheet over himself and sitting up.

“Well, Grand Seraph,” said Sorey dryly, “It seems you really can’t hold your liquor after all.”

Mikleo tried to sit up, then gave up, laying flat on the floor. “Answer me,” said Mikleo weakly.

“You really don’t remember?”

“Sorey.”

“What’s the last thing you do remember?”

Mikleo held his head. “Barmaid gave me a bottle of whiskey.”

“Wow,” said Sorey. “That was _early_.”

“Oh Gods,” muttered Mikleo. “Take me now.”

Sorey laughed. “You left the festival, so I went to find you.”

“I remember leaving.” Mikleo frowned. “Where did I go?”

“I found you on the rooftop of a nearby business. You weren’t much for conversation. You really- you don’t remember this?”

“ _What_ did I say?” hissed Mikleo.

“I don’t remember exactly,” said Sorey. “You said a lot of things. You were bummed out. It took me almost an hour to convince you to come back to the festival.”

“Then?”

“We had a few more beers before you really couldn’t stand anymore.”

“I drank _more_?”

Sorey scratched the back of his head. “Well, yeah.”

“Then?”

“Like I said, you couldn’t stand anymore, so we left. Then, um, you, uh...”

“I _what?_ ”

“Uhh, how do I put this eloquently? You, um, barfed.”

Mikleo leaned back into the floor. “The Grand Seraph of Water does not vomit.”

“The Grand Seraph most certainly vomited in the street last night.”

He shut his eyes tightly. The sound of Sorey’s laughter rang in his ears, amplified by his hangover.

“A little got on your coat. And pants. And in your hair.”

“Oh Maotelus,” he mumbled. “Save me.”

“I can’t remember how, but I got us back to the inn. You insisted on taking a bath. So I helped you get in the bathtub. You sat in the shower fully clothed for about two hours.”

“ _Sorey._ ”

“I couldn’t get you out of the tub! You kept saying that you ruined everything. Ah Mikleo, you get so sad sometimes for no good reason.” He smiled. “I had a great time last night.”

Mikleo remembered back to Rodrigo and felt immediate repulsion deep in his gut.

“Why?” asked Mikleo harshly.

“You were hilarious,” said Sorey. “Impossible, but hilarious.”

Mikleo groaned. “Glad you had a laugh at my expense. So continue, after I got out of the tub.”

“After the third or fourth time I tried shutting off the water and telling you it was bedtime, it took. Do you know how difficult that was? Getting a drunken Water Seraph out of a tub?”

Mikleo grumbled. “I like water.”

Sorey huffed a laugh. “Clearly.”

“Then what?”

“I got you out of your wet clothes and dried you off with a towel. You weren’t really in a condition to dry yourself. Then, uh, you climbed into my bed.”

“And why didn’t you sleep in the other bed.”

“Mikleo, you wouldn’t let me. You have to understand, you were very demanding. You said that we had to be in the same bed, and if we were both in the same bed we both had to be naked.” Sorey shrugged. “I was tired and didn’t really see any harm in it.”

“So you got naked too.”

“The lights were off,” said Sorey, scratching his head. “It made sense at the time. Should I not have listened to you?”

“Did anything happen between us?”

“I mean,” Sorey blushed. “You insisted on cuddling. But that’s all that happened, Mikleo, I swear. I’d never break my promise.”

Mikleo grumbled loudly.

“Nothing happened,” Sorey repeated. “I wouldn’t take advantage of you in that state, even if you asked me to.”

“Did I ask you to?”

Sorey blushed and pursed his lips.

“ _Gods_ ,” said Mikleo, pulling the comforter over his head.

“You can’t sleep forever,” said Sorey. “We have to get up and spar.”

“I’m in no condition to spar today, Sorey,” said Mikleo. “I deserve this hangover.”

“You really don’t remember what you said to the Woodsmen?”

Mikleo groaned. “What other wonderful surprises did I leave for myself?”

“We were talking about our training,” said Sorey. “You said you could take them all on. You were very insistent. So we agreed to armatize and spar with them... all. Today. This morning.”

“ _What?_ ”

“They’re probably getting warmed up now,” said Sorey. “Come on, it sounds like fun.”

There was one Woodsman in particular Mikleo wouldn’t mind wiping the floor with.

A green glow began to illuminate the floor in a circle, the glow visible through the comforter. Within moments, his Elixir Vitae faded, the alcohol and toxins removed from their blood.

“I don’t deserve to feel this well,” said Mikleo. He stood, clutching the comforter. “Turn around. I have to get dressed.”

Sorey snorted a laugh.


	11. Historia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nearly 18k words (╥﹏╥) I promise the chapters will be normal length from here on out!  
> This is largely a recap chapter which is why it's so long. Please note the tags have been updated. Hope you enjoy!

“Home sweet home,” said Sorey.

Mikleo hummed in agreeance, hanging his coat by the door of their Ladylake home. He leaned down to untie his boots. He smiled at Sorey, repeating the same action beside him. He padded his socked feet to his desk, laying his clutched travel bag atop. There was great relief to be found in the familiar; the wooden desk, his collection of books, the home for much of the work he had completed in the last several centuries. He pulled up a chair at the desk, rubbing one of the shoulders of his long sleeved ruffled black undershirt before sitting.

Sorey flopped on the bed. With his own cloak and button up shirt removed, he lazed in his black undershirt, black pants and socked feet.

“How long do you want to stay?” asked Sorey.

Mikleo pulled assorted notes and writings from his travel bag, organizing them into neat piles. “I’d like to update my curriculum.” He frowned. “Not much has changed, but our teachings could use some updating.” He reached forward and pulled a larger book from the shelf before him, wasting no time in flipping to a page to compare his notes.

“And... how long is that going to take?”

“Why?” asked Mikleo, smiling. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

Sorey rolled onto his back, leaning his head off the side and looking up at his friend. His soft chestnut hair fought against gravity, feathered earrings engaged in a similar battle.

“A few hours at most,” said Mikleo, lifting his quilled pen with a delicate grip. “Then we can meet up with Alisha and Rose.”

“Do you want me to let them we’ve arrived?” asked Sorey.

“Not yet, I’m not sure how long this will take,” said Mikleo honestly. “I’ll let you know in a few, then we can make plans.”

Sorey grumbled. Mikleo raised his eyebrows and got to work. He heard Sorey rustling and moving, then scooting a chair behind him.

“I’m bored,” said Sorey.

“I can tell.” Mikleo continued his work uninterrupted, marking another page with his quilled pen.

Sorey carefully raised his hands, bringing them to Mikleo’s ponytailed hair. He tugged at the small leather strip in Mikleo’s hair, releasing his cascading, wild curls.

“Can I play with your hair?” he asked, his fingers already combing through the silvery locks.

  
“Of course,” said Mikleo, hiding a coy smile.

The gentle tugs of his scalp, fingers separating locks and twining them with each other had become a wonderfully familiar feeling to Mikleo. Sorey had progressed from simple braids to more complicated styles; Mikleo would always be happy to act as his model, providing him the medium to practice.

He continued comparing his notes as Sorey braided and unbraided lengths, winding and unwinding his hair together. He re-parted his hair, tucked locks behind an ear, pulled the first few strands of a tight braid against his scalp before unwinding it all again. There was an an anxious buzz of tense energy from Sorey. His impatience, decided Mikleo, as he sighed deeply in annoyed contentment.

He felt Sorey combing his fingers through his hair from scalp to tip again, parting it down the middle and moving each parted side over a shoulder. There was a pause, a lack of motion before he felt a tickle of Sorey’s warm breath first against the back of his neck, then the pressing of his lips.

Mikleo placed his quilled pen on the table and sat up straight.

“What are you doing?”

After receiving no answer, he turned. Sorey had averted his eyes, cheeks flush, hands nervously clenched in his lap. He pursed his lips.

“I’m sorry,” he started. “I can’t help being-” He cleared his throat. “I’m... very attracted to you.” His lashes lowered.

Mikleo’s heart thumped in his throat.

“Sorey,” he said softly. “We’ve talked about this.”

“And I’ve kept my promise,” said Sorey, his lashes raising slowly. “We’ve both been so good. Don’t we both deserve to slip, just once?”

Mikleo slowly closed his eyes, letting out a soft breath.

“I think it’s what you want, too,” said Sorey in a near whisper.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” said Mikleo, with a sad smile.

“Yes, it does,” he said, raising his chin. His eyes darted about, searching Mikleo’s face. “I don’t want you to feel like this. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t... do what you want to do, like your life is dictated by your-”

“My malevolence,” finished Mikleo. His lips held together in a thin line.

Sorey averted his eyes again. “I was hoping by now to have made progress.” He sighed. “Two years I’ve spent with you and I’m no closer to helping.”

Mikleo paused. “Helping,” he repeated coldly.

“You know,” urged Sorey. “I want to help you.”

Mikleo pursed his lips and nodded slowly. He nudged his chair back.

“I believe,” continued Sorey, scratching the back of his head. “Each seed is connected to something that happened to you. And, I know it’s really hard to talk about it, but I’ve been hoping that maybe you’d want to at least...” Sorey shrugged. “Maybe you’d want to talk about your past with me.” He smiled sheepishly.

Mikleo stood and turned away.

Sorey continued. “I think I can help you.”

Mikleo chuckled quietly to himself.

“So that’s all I am. Still nothing more than a project to you.”

“Huh?”

Mikleo scoffed. “The Great Shepherd, Maotelus’ Great Vessel wakes up and decides he hasn’t had enough of playing the hero?”

“What?”

“Surely the great Shepherd can save my wayward soul?”

“Mikleo, come on, it’s not like that-”

“Were we even friends?” Mikleo pinched the bridge of his nose, his hand covering his mouth. “Or have you just been trying to get close so you could... _fix_ me?”

“Mikleo, I swear, no one in the world means more to me. I’m- I’m devoted to you.”

“Devoted?” He furrowed his brow and turned. “Devoted?” He scoffed again. “I taught your beliefs at a school I helped found for you, Sorey. I fought hellions for centuries so you could wake sooner, Sorey. I catalogued the _world_ for you, Sorey.” He raised his arms, then dropped them in exasperation. “I practically started a religion for you, Sorey. Devoted? You want to talk devoted? I gave _seven hundred and forty two years_ of my life to our cause and _this_ is the thanks I get?”

“Mikleo-”

He shuddered a breath. “Nothing’s changed from your first instinct? When you were so scared of me, you didn’t- you wouldn’t touch me? When you were so _disgusted_ -”

“Stop, Mikleo, I wasn’t-, I just didn’t- you’re my best friend,” blurted Sorey. “And I hate that you don’t feel free. I hate that you keep secrets from me.”

“My past isn’t a secret, Sorey. You just weren’t there.”

“If that were true you’d tell me everything.”

“And didn’t _that_ go so well the last time you asked.”

“I was just hoping that you’d want to talk about your past without me asking,” said Sorey. “Instead I learned more from stories and other people.”

Mikleo winced.

“I know a lot of things happened to you,” continued Sorey. “And you did a lot of things you’re not proud of. It doesn’t change the way I-” Sorey shuddered a breath. “Nothing could damage our friendship, Mikleo. I promise.”

Mikleo shut his eyes tightly.

“So please, when you’re ready to share, I’m ready to try... to purify you.”

Mikleo laughed to himself.

“Mikleo, I’m serious.”

“I’ve already tried everything,” said Mikleo simply. “Nothing I say or do is going to help.” He let out a breath. “This is me now, Sorey. If you can’t accept it, then...” He winced. “We have no business travelling together anymore.”

“Don’t be so overdramatic,” said Sorey. “You haven’t tried what I’m asking.”

Mikleo’s hands drew into fists. His breaths became labored.

“It won’t help,” he said simply.

“At least try,” said Sorey.

“What’s the use?” He clutched his arm tightly. “Reopening my old and buried wounds for the sake of your whim?”

“I truly believe that I can do this,” said Sorey. “We can do this, together. Give it a chance. Please.”

Mikleo shook his head. “There’s a lot about me that you don’t need to know.”

“I’m not scared by anything I’ve learned so far,” said Sorey, searching his face.

Mikleo swallowed. “Why is it so hard for you to just accept me?”

“Why are you being evasive?”

Mikleo pursed his lips. “I’m not being evasive.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Then share something. Just one thing. Tell me about something that happened to you in detail.”

“I’m not doing this,” he said. He walked towards the door.

“I just want you to be free,” Sorey pleaded. “Give me a chance.”

“I am free,” said Mikleo. “Free to leave this conversation.”

“Come on, Mikleo.”

Mikleo raised his hand and walked out the door.

He shut the door behind himself before leaning against the opposite hallway wall. He tilted his head upwards in an attempt to keep the tears in his eyes.

 _Set me free?_ He thought. _If he knew everything, he’d never stay. That would really set me free, wouldn’t it._

He huffed a quiet, sad laugh to himself.

_I’ve already lost him, haven’t I?_

_I lost him long ago._

_Maybe I was once his friend, but I’m nothing more than a project to him now. He hasn’t treated me the same since he woke up. And why should he? I’m not the same boy I was when he went to sleep. We’ve both changed too much._

A tear escaped, which he hastily wiped away. The bitter numbness overcame him.

_Two years together and he still sees me as nothing more than a burden. And we’ll never be anything more than this. I’ve lost all chance._

_It’s over._

_And he’s just going to keep asking, keep trying to fix what isn’t broken._

_So why not tell him everything? If I rip off the bandage quickly, at least I can begin healing and move on with my life without him._

The impulse of defeat overcame him. He swallowed and nodded to himself, pursing his lips and reopening the door.

Sorey was sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. He looked up to meet Mikleo’s eyes as the door shut behind him. They watched each other in a tense moment, Sorey clearly unsure how upset Mikleo may have been.

“It’s going to take a long time to share everything,” said Mikleo, feeling the blood drain from his face in concession. He gripped his arm tightly.

“I’m patient,” said Sorey.

Mikleo shook his head, smiling in disagreeance. “I will do this for you. And after you... after you know everything, we can-” He swallowed. “We can sort it out.” He forced himself to nod.

 _And go our separate ways,_ his mind supplied.

“Please trust me,” said Sorey. “I won’t let you down.”

“Call my True Name,” he said quietly.

Sorey watched him curiously for a moment before obliging.

  
  


* * *

 

 

His essence filled Sorey, dressing him head to toe in their shared armatus. They became them, one unified soul still fighting a battle of inner turmoil. The last time they had been as emotionally unbalanced in the armatus was when facing Heldalf, forced to be the bearer of goodbyes to their own Gramps.

There was a pang of regret as they both made the realization together, their minds unbarred. Sorey rose their hand to their heart in silent respect.

“Lay on the bed and close your eyes,” echoed Mikleo.

Their body cooperated, Sorey in control. They laid facing the ceiling, resting their head on a pillow, long blonde ponytailed hair twirling unkempt beside them. Their eyes closed.

“Try to relax,” said Mikleo, despite having been the architect of much of their turmoil.

He felt Sorey shifting their body, adjusting their limbs to maximize their comfort.

“What are we doing?” asked their shared voice.

“I’m going to start from the beginning,” echoed Mikleo.

They nodded firmly in agreeance. “I’m ready for anything.”

“This arte takes great concentration.”

“What arte?”

Mikleo echoed a shush in their mind. They followed suit, falling in silence. Their slow breaths and single heartbeat echoed in their mind as they tried to relax.

Then, an image flickered forth in their mind’s eye.

  
  


* * *

 

 

He felt himself floating upwards up and out of the crater. Soft red, yellow and green lights meandered nearby. The lights were dim, dimmer than usual; close to the edge of extinguishment. They must have been the essences of Lailah, Edna and Zaveid. They followed the same slow, steady trajectory, seeking out their new vessel Rose, perched atop the cliff’s edge.

White light streamed towards the sky through the deep crevasse of the earthpulse.

 _“You idiot.”_ Rose’s voice echoed in the vision. _“Idiot. You did it. You really did it.”_

  
  
  


* * *

 

 

“Mikleo!” exclaimed their shared voice, their eyes bursting open. “Is this your arte?”

“Yes,” echoed Mikleo. “Try to stay quiet.”

“This is incredible,” they said. “You’re incredible. This is better than the Earthen Historia!”

Pride welled within them as their hand clutched the fabric over their heart.

“I’ll try to be thorough but quick. There’s a lot of ground to cover.”

They nodded firmly and closed their eyes.

  
  
  


* * *

 

 

 _“I'm not leaving.”_ Mikleo folded his arms stubbornly. The vision was back, the thick malevolence of the crater weighing on the group.  
  
The Seraphim manifest from Rose. Lailah gracefully stepped forward.  
  
_“Mikleo. I know you're in mourning but please understand. The malevolence here, surely you will-”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“I can't leave. I need to protect him.”_

 _“Mik-boy... You're so damn stubborn.”_ Zaveid folded his arms. _“So what's the plan?”_ _  
_  
_“I know you think I'll fall. But I won't. I have to continue my Mother's work and protect Camlann,  Maotelus, and Sorey. I have to look forward. I won't be here long, just until I know that they're safe.”_

He looked to Edna, young and spriteful, poised to attack with her umbrella.

 _“Edna, I need your power. Create a path so I can get as close as possible to the crater.”_ She nodded. _“I will cloak the path. Lailah, I need you to burn away any lingering malevolence. And Zaveid, I need you to bring fresh winds with the blessings of the Seraphim in Elysia. I know Gramps’ domain isn't there, but their pure hearts will help keep us safe.”_

  
  


* * *

 

  


“So you took charge and made a plan,” their shared voices interrupted. “That was all you.”

“Please,” echoed Mikleo. “No more interruptions. This takes a lot of concentration.”

“Okay,” they responded. “Sorry.”

Their heart beat painfully together.

  
  
  


* * *

  


 

Between protecting the crater from insurgent hellions, researching seals and tireless training, Mikleo found no time for relaxation. He forwent eating and sleeping as the sole guardian, the protector of the Camlann crater.

Months passed. His only company was the light streaming into the sky, the light he had begun talking to as though it was a living companion; the echo of Sorey. He couldn’t know whether or not Sorey could really hear him, but the company kept him grounded.

Zaveid was the first to visit him and check on his wellbeing. After several more weeks, the remainder of their group visited; Rose, Lailah, Edna, Zaveid and Alisha. Alisha spoke to the light as Mikleo often had, discussing her dreams and well wishes.

It would be another few weeks before Alisha visited again, alone.

He was cold to her at first. Colder than necessary, still bitter for the suffering she had once brought Sorey. In no time at all she won him over with sweets and blankets, the comforts of home. She was a brilliant and talented woman, kind and honest. Soon he found himself asleep for the first time in months. She offered her protection, her friendship, and her physical company. The gnawing, roaring loneliness in his bones was placated by her touch, rapidly descending into raw, physical need; she obliged him in fulfillment.

Mikleo paused momentarily, measuring a reaction from Sorey. He found none, only his patient, listening vessel.

He continued.

Weekly Alisha would visit with books, food, and to satisfy each others carnal needs. He was a kind, gentle lover; inexperienced as she was. Eventually she broke it off, citing her need to return to political matters. She offered him quarter in Ladylake, an apartment at the top of the tower he would call home for centuries to come. He had completed the seal protecting Camlann, and found himself ready to return to fighting alongside his Shepherd and Squire.

He visited Elysia, mourning the loss of Gramps. His family celebrated his missed nineteenth birthday. Kyme had become the village leader in the absence of Gramps. Soon he would be returning to Ladylake and meeting up with Rose.

 _“Same lipstick, new pig,”_ he had commented, her new asymmetrical Shepherd’s cloak slung casually over one shoulder. He sensed her weariness of commitment; for someone who had always been private her personal space was now permanently occupied with Seraphim. He was struck between a balance of allowing her the space she desired, and bound with the terror that many humans could truly see him; he could benefit from her protection and guidance. Many recognized him as flashes and shimmers as proof of his existence, but little more than that. It would take time for generations to flourish with stronger resonance before humans and Seraphim could truly live together in harmony.

It was odd, he found, when humans approached him. They engaged in awkward, curious conversation, he found himself curious in return but ultimately defensive.  When they repeatedly commented on his attractive appearance, he began to wonder. Was he really as desirable as the public would lead him to believe?

He felt an agreeance from Sorey, as if to recall that just moments prior he had admitted that he was very attracted to Mikleo.

The flirtation only fed his confidence. His once oft-flustered self became stoic, tempered by these interactions. Between purifying hellions and ruin exploration, he found himself turning down potential partners often. He wondered to himself if he should really be saying no. The gnawing loneliness, the physical void that Sorey had left had been calling to him. He pleasured himself often in the privacy of his home, if only to stymie the loneliness for one more night. He channeled his frustrations into battle, the violent ruthfulness of hellions purified by his graceful, fastidious combat.

A year passed and he found himself back in Ladylake. He had been training all afternoon, finding a courtyard behind their tower ideal for channelling his Artes. He was enjoying the cool evening, a mild storm was passing through. His hair was held back in a short, hopeful ponytail. He had grown taller, his coat tighter across his broadened chest. He wore the top unzipped slightly to accommodate his growth, his undershirt peeking through below his collarbones. He stood on his balcony between the raindrops, watching the soft white light of Sorey’s purification stream into the sky. A gentle voice called to him from a nearby balcony. Rose was on her own balcony, a floor below, asking for his company. He obliged, using his artes to create an ice bridge in a brandish act of splendor.

They found themselves drinking together, enjoying each other’s company. She leaned against him, the warmth of her body overwhelming his lonely desires. He tested the waters with a kiss to the crown of her head, and found her responsiveness overwhelming. She demanded him, gripping against his coat and pulling his hair tie out, releasing his shoulder length hair. She slammed him against the wall in a dominant display of desire, demanding attention to her body with his hands, her lips with his own.

He paused again, waiting for Sorey’s reaction. There was a hint of confusion, but overall, attentive acceptance.

He continued.

He pushed her onto the bed, unbuckling her bra, carefully watching for consent every step of the way. Her desire was raw, unleashed; nothing like the reserved companionship he found with the Princess. He fucked her fully as she demanded, thumbing her pink nipples, her body writhing in the pleasure they had unexpectedly found within each other.

A flash of colored light; the realization that the other Seraphim had witnessed their act as they reached simultaneous climax. The immediate reaction of nervous laughter, escalating into her wild frenzy of kicking him out.

Stunned, he found himself shambling downstairs for a drink.

 _Give me the strongest you’ve got,_ he had written on a small scrap of paper. The bartender exchanged his note for a small glass of brown liquid over ice he recognized as whiskey.

 _“Well if it isn't our resident ladykiller Mikster!”_ _  
_  
Sudden annoyance, rolling his eyes as Zaveid plopped down at the barstool next to him.  
  
_“Zaveid,”_ Mikleo acknowledged, suddenly very interested in his drink.  
  
_“So. I'm impressed! You tamed the Wild Rose.”_

  
_“It's not like that,”_ he responded into his drink.

The guilt of being caught, the frustration of having to deal with the reactions of each Seraphim, especially Zaveid led him to drinking more than was necessary in avoidance.

Soon, he began exploring outside of his social circle.

He drank at bars in the daytime alone, away from the judgmental eyes of his group. He found that the few humans that could see him seemed to be the bravest, the most likely to approach him. Zaveid had given him pointers, sloppy pick up lines and suave comebacks that might be successful from someone with more prowess; for now he relied on his coy wit, alluring those that might be interested with pure curiosity.

It worked, as more than one human led him back to their bedroom.

It was strange, laying in the bedsweat of men and women he would likely never see again, not bothering to remember their names. He had likely changed their lives, blessing them with the memory of Seraphim companionship; to him they were little more than company for a single evening. That wasn’t to say their lives weren’t important, but that the role they played in his was simply no more than exactly what it was. During his travels he found some had mourned his leaving, begging him to stay for one more night. Zaveid served as his mentor, reminding him that unchecked time with humans away from his vessel may lead to malevolence.

It wasn’t long before the whispers of a Lord of Calamity arose.

They followed the trail of evidence, strange happenings that could only be explained by malevolence; visions of the dead come back to life to torment and drive their surviving loved ones to insane acts of violence upon themselves and others.

Visions, not unlike those created by Symmone. The evidence was overwhelming.

 _“We should have struck her down in Camlann,”_ he remembered himself saying.

 _“Sorey believed she would change,”_ said Rose, sharpening and cleaning her daggers. _“It’s a shame, but it’s up to us to end this.”_

It couldn’t have come at a worse time. Ladylake was the Shepherds’ cradle; the womb that would nurse those who possessed strong enough resonance into the first potential Shepherds. The school had neared completion, Alisha and Mikleo worked day and night to complete curricula and recruit teachers. The families of several young Shepherds-to-be had just moved to Ladylake in preparation when they attacked.

Buildings burned, violence and malevolence bred all due to the powerful domain of the Lord of Calamity. He moved under a cloak of confusion, bringing civil war and carnage in his path. Ladylake was not safe from his destruction. They followed in his wake, horrified to discover they were led on a path towards Camlann.

_“We have to stop him before he reaches the crater. I can’t be sure how long my seals will hold.”_

Landscapes changed, memories of Rose’s past haunting her. The betrothal and betrayal of Prince Konan. The murder and loss of Brad.

 _“Do not succumb to her visions,”_ reminded Lailah, her cards burning through the malevolence. _“You are stronger than her torment.”_

Mikleo remembered the pained look Rose had given to her lover, Alisha, before calling his True Name.

 _“We are going to end this together_ ,” she said under her breath in both their voices, quiet enough that none other would hear. _“Are you with me?”_

 _“I’m with you,”_ echoed Mikleo. _“Let’s end this.”_

Lailah, Edna and Zaveid stood behind Alisha, battling against the Lord of Calamity, Lunarre. His large intimidating fox-like form held them at bay, wide sweeps of his oversized broadsword narrowly missing her, maniacal laughter ringing through the air.

Rose and Mikleo’s Water Armatus cloaked, darting about with windsteps. Through a flurry of arrows they eliminated each duplicitous version of Symmone, until none remained but the true one.

_“Now!”_

They windstepped forth, together, piercing her heart with the tip of the blessed bow.

Her eyes went wide as she coughed blood, pouring malevolence into the vicinity. Her hatred, screaming into the atmosphere as she dissipated into nothing but black tendrils.

 _“May these weary bones find peaceful rest,”_ they said together.

Blackness, as Lunarre’s large broadsword came across them, slashing across their chest. Mikleo was ripped from the Armatus and tossed aside like a rag doll. Her black tendrils struck him in the chest, a final act of defiance. His back arched as he was rendered unable to move, gasping for breath and stunned by the pain of malevolence forcibly poured in his heart.

He felt Sorey’s armatus jerking in reaction, his resolution that this was the first scar; the first seed planted into Mikleo’s heart.

 _“Rose!”_ screamed Alisha.

Rose coughed, struggling to stand. Before anyone had time to react, his broadsword impacted with her chest, stabbing her through and through.

_“No!”_

There was no healing spell that could be fast enough, no armatization that could save her. There was a sickening thump as her body slid off the broadsword and hit the Earth. Rose’s light left her eyes, a sad smile on her face that would never move again.

Mikleo struggled to stand, lips shaking. Rose, the strongest of their Shepherds had been killed. Saving humanity and restoring balance was even more fragile now. Their dream of living together in peace further from their grasp. Was the blame on him? Was it his fault that he was unable to protect her from death? He shook his head. Were these his true thoughts? Or Symmone’s last act of malevolence? He staggered forward, unable to stand, weakly dropping to his knees.

The terrible wails from Alisha were sickening, resounding her deep pain for anyone unfortunate enough to hear. Lailah and Edna continued their attacks on Lunarre, while Zaveid failed to hold Alisha back. She struggled free, running to hold the bloodied corpse of her lover.

_“What’re you doing over there, silly?”_

Alisha looked up, eyes wide to behold the sight of a shimmering Wind Seraph, soft white hair tipped in green, vibrant blue eyes that could never have been anyone but Rose’s. She stretched her hand forward to meet Alisha’s. Alisha stood and softly put her hand in the Seraph’s.

_“No time to get sentimental. I need you to give me a True Name. Now.”_

_“Do it quickly,”_ yelled Lailah. _“I’ll make the pact!”_

Mikleo recalled the look in Alisha’s eyes as they met Rose’s.

 _“Wikushunye Byit’wosu,”_ she called, her voice shaking. _“Rose, the Winds of Fortune.”_

Her shimmering, smiling form dissipated into a burst of green light, encompassing Alisha and dressing her in the armor of the Wind Seraph Armatus, the first time she had connected with a Seraphim strongly and deeply enough to wield.

 _“That’s a mouthful, isn’t it?”_ asked their combined, laughing voices as they flew into the air. _“Now! Sylphistia!”_

Lunarre fell, as his vision faded to purple, then black.

He awoke later that evening at a bed within the palace. He sat up, seeing that Alisha was asleep in another bed nearby. It would take her five days to awaken. Once she did, they found her resonance had strengthened profoundly. It was a blessing, a boon in a long string of hardships.

He cut his hair out of respect for Rose’s funeral. He had been frustrated by the lack of progress, despite several years passing it had refused to grow past shoulder length.

Soon the curricula were completed, Mikleo volunteered to join teaching the first round of classes at the Academy. It would mean staying in Ladylake for a while, at least until all the kinks were worked out of their process.

 _“This isn’t going to work,”_ he said one night, pinching the bridge of his nose. _“At least they have a lot of heart.”_

 _“They can learn to fight, Mikleo,”_ Alisha had said. _“In fact, I know just the man for the job.”_

It was a tragedy that Sergei would never see Seraphim. It didn’t take much for Alisha to devise plans for a training ground, the Strelka School of Martial Arts that would allow for would-be Shepherds to study hand to hand combat as well as the blade, bow and spear.

Mikleo found himself at the sanctuary after classes often. There, he spoke to a Seraph that had become his good friend, Uno.

_“Does it scare you? Knowing you’ll need to break your pact with Alisha soon?”_

_“I’ve spent quite a bit of time with humans now,”_ he said. _“I quite enjoy their company.”_

 _“And what of the company of Seraphim?”_ He remembered how gently Uno had lifted his chin, his fine features framed by his dark blue bangs. Curiosity flashed in his darkened eyes.

It would be another two weeks of flirtation and teasing before they slept together. Uno, a true elementalist disavowed the use of beds and human comfort, opting to make love under the depth of the nearby lake. He remembered the beauty of picking out bright pin lights of stars filtered through the thickness of water, the feeling of them joined together in such a place that would have been impossible for any other beings. Their energies resonated together; Mikleo's riptide, and Uno's torrential storm.

Uno became his confidante, only second to the light of the Camlann crater. He visited both as often as he could between classes. Edna and Zaveid had spent the last few years travelling to recruit Seraphim and future Shepherds for their cause.

 _“Looks like this is tougher than we expected, kid,”_ said Zaveid. _“There ain’t many Seraphim joining us just yet.”_

 _“I can’t wait to have my very own Shepherd to boss around,”_ deadpanned Edna. _“Oh boy.”_

Her wish came sooner as expected as the first small set of Shepherds graduated, each paired with a Prime Lord and nothing more.

He was paired with a young Shepherd, Liam. He was the quietest of the set of graduates; a young man with a close cropped fiery red beard and light skin. Liam was largely uninterested in exploring ruins and caverns, and gravitated more to missionary and spiritual endeavors despite his strength as a swordsman.

 _“We should be out there purifying,”_ he remembered spouting in a fit of fury. _“We’re wasting our time.”_

 _“Patience, my Seraph,”_ he had said. _“When more pray for the Five Lords, your power will grow.”_

He felt uncomfortable within Liam’s vesselspace. Their Armatus was unbalanced and unusable. Rather than rest, Mikleo opted to train tirelessly throughout the night. Training devolved into exploring, and exploring into solo endeavors of purification.

 _“You’re going to get yourself killed,”_ Zaveid had said. _“Or worse.”_

_“I know what I’m doing.”_

_“Eizen thought the same thing. You need to be careful, Mikleo.”_

_“I’m not Eizen.”_

He felt Sorey’s body tense involuntarily. Even now in his memory Sorey saw what everyone else had recognized. Mikleo’s carelessness was leading him directly on a path to harboring malevolence; A path to losing himself and becoming a dragon.

Liam was not a good fit. He didn’t like the way he avoided battle, didn’t agree with him on most subjects, and didn’t like the way he smelled. He ended up back in Ladylake, Shepherdless, frustrated as before. Upon his return he met a recent graduate, a young blonde named Camden.

Camden was adventurous. Brash, impulsive and borderline careless, they made a great team. Mikleo fell into the more comfortable role of the cautious one. He felt freed by his spirit, attitude, and eventually, his touch.

An unexpected thought slipped through. He revealed that deep within the catacombs of the Edinburgh ruins during his trysts with Camden, he had thought of Sorey on more than one occasion; dreaming what it could be like if it were just the two of them, Shepherd and Seraph, exploring caverns, exploring ruins and exploring each other.

A regretful pause, measuring Sorey’s reaction. He felt the internal battle of one, perhaps both of them working to conceal their thoughts and reactions.

He would be more careful. He dove back into the vision.

Camden stayed with him several months. Mikleo was in his mid-thirties when his Shepherd fell in battle. It was a tragic day, his return to Ladylake with his body in tow. He was numb; detached. Camden He would not be the first or the last Shepherd to fall in combat. He travelled, vowing to avoid combat, the Celestial Record his vessel between Shepherds. His heart was in turmoil, not knowing whether or not he loved Camden. And now, he was dead, his life cut far too short. He had been unable to protect him, just like Rose. A brief respite was in order.

It was then that he met Gabriel in the small library of Horsa.

 _“I know you’re here,”_ the young brunet had said. _“I can feel you, but I can’t see you.”_

Gabriel was nineteen. He was not exceptionally strong, nor was he built for anything more than clerical, librarian work. He reminded Mikleo of himself, the possibility of what could have been had he not been slain as an infant.

 _“Stay with this lonely Seraph,”_ he had written on a scrap of paper, unenchanting it for human eyes to witness. _“Your resonance will grow.”_

Day after day Mikleo returned to the library. Gabriel brought him gifts of treats and snacks to welcome his presence. He was also rewarded with the most ancient of books. Although the small library at Horsa was relatively new, the books contained had been in his family for generations. Gabriel was well read, having been taught a small amount of Ancient Avarost by his ancestors. Mikleo was grateful for the company and education.

Mikleo was correct in his assessment, when he found during flipping pages of a book Gabriel’s hand came over his from across the library table. Their eyes met.

 _“You’re more attractive than I imagined,”_ he had said shyly.

_“Did you imagine me often?”_

_“Yes.”_

He remembered the way his lips twitched into a smile. Still blinded by the loss of Camden, his questionable judgment led him to Gabriel’s bed.

 _“I could serve as your vessel,”_ Gabriel had said, running his finger down Mikleo’s naked chest in his bed.

_“You haven’t received proper training. It would be dangerous.”_

_“More dangerous than the hellions that attack humanity?”_

_“I can’t risk it. You could end up like Camden.”_

_“Let me serve as your vessel. I can help you with your duty. Let me unlock your power.”_

It would take another few days of pleading before Mikleo gave in. With no suitable Shepherds to be found, Gabriel was right. He could, at the very least unlock the power of Purification within Mikleo.

_“I will give you my True Name.”_

_“I’m ready to serve you, my Lord.”_

Upon entering their pact Gabriel fell into a deep slumber.

It was then that he learned how Gabriel’s mother saw the Seraphim; Demons, occult poltergeists that were nothing more than nuisances. Her son had been possessed by an evil spirit, she proclaimed. She knew his name, a mistake on Gabriel’s part in sharing, and used it with spiteful hate. She was exactly the kind of person he needed to reach, but could not without a human ally; a Shepherd. On the third day, he did not awaken. Nor on the fourth, fifth, or sixth.

Word travelled back to Ladylake. On the seventh day, Alisha arrived.

 _“Break the pact,”_ she pleaded. _“There will be others.”_

Rose manifest from Alisha. He remembered for the first time noticing their age difference; the Princess was weathered in ways that Rose now would never be. She would stay young, as young as she felt for the rest of eternity.

His thoughts went to Sorey. How Sorey would have gotten older had he not gone to sleep. Mikleo would likely do his best to keep up, aging alongside him. And then, Sorey would die. It was the likely scenario if... no, when he awoke. That he would live the rest of his human life before dying. Just like Mayvin. Muse. Rose. Camden.

He broke the pact, thankful that Alisha was there to do her best damage control of the situation. Alisha welcomed him as a temporary Sub Lord. He returned to Ladylake with Alisha and Rose, and returned to teaching. There, he noticed his hair finally growing past his shoulders.

 _“You need a distraction,”_ said Zaveid during one of his visits to the Academy. _“There’s a new brothel in Gododdin, with tons of girls that can see us.”_

The thought lingered for several weeks before he decided to pay the brothel a visit. There he found himself the guest of honor, pampered by many, and fed decadent food and drink including the blessed Elixir, the very same one that had kick-started his libido many years ago. The occasion was remembered as one of great pleasure and gratification, at least of what he could remember; a variety of blurred mouths, fingers, genitalia and tendrils of water. He remembered feeling untouchable, the ultimate being to be desired, as a God with bottomless power. He awoke the next morning with five humans of varying gender in his bed. And the next morning, with a different set of six.

He returned to Ladylake, drunk and poor, in a cloud of malevolence.

 _“You can’t spend time like this with humans,”_ Rose had said, purifying him with her winds. _“You’re on a dark path.”_

 _“Zaveid’s idea,_ ” he mumbled.

_“Don’t listen to that perv. Besides, you’re breaking Uno’s heart.”_

_“I never told him we were exclusive.”_

Shepherd Scarlet was the next to apprehensively agree to travel with Mikleo. By then, word had gotten out that Mikleo was dangerous, to be tamed. No average Shepherd could hold the power of the Grand Seraph. Scarlet was cautious but thorough. She spent a short few months clearing hellions at Edinburgh before deciding he was too high maintenance to tolerate. Next was Grayson, a repeat of the same story. Then Vance. Vance was second of his generation, a fortunate child sired by a fallen Shepherd.

Vance was blonde, like Camden. His tan skin was dotted with freckles. His swordsmanship skills were excellent. They sparred tirelessly, challenging each other in training, and eventually, in the bedroom.

After nearly a year of purification together, he called it off.

 _“I can’t do this anymore,”_ he had said.

_“Why? Don’t you love me?”_

_“Mikleo, we both know you never loved me.”_

Vance broke their pact to travel with another Seraph. Heartbroken and alone, Mikleo once again returned to Ladylake to teach, and his old ways. At least while he was teaching, he could visit Camlann often.

 _“It’s me, old friend,”_ he had said, visiting the crater and speaking to the light. “ _I screwed up. Again.”_

Sorey shivered, recognizing Mikleo’s deep sadness as he watched the cycle repeat over and over, letting himself down while making slow progress on the purification front.

Then, disaster struck again.

 _“They say there’s gonna be war,”_ said Zaveid.

 _“Humans are such dummies,”_ said Edna, turning away and opening her parasol. She had nearly grown as tall as Zaveid’s shoulder. _“Here we go again.”_

The war was between cities that supported Seraphim integration into society, and the politicians who couldn’t bear to change. Disagreements escalated to violence, violence to hostilities and hostilities to full on battles. It all seemed to escalate quicker than necessary. The few travelling Shepherds rescinded, and fought alongside the Seraphim that would support their cause.

The Malevolence of the battlefield was great. More than one dragon formed from the thick miasma, former comrades that did not deserve that fate. There were rumors of another Lord of Calamity rising from human restlessness. Some deigned that there would always be a Lord of Calamity to balance the world, that the Era of Chaos would never end. The team would do everything to ensure that would not be the fate of the world.

Alisha was in her mid-fifties. Despite her battle expertise and prowess, her aging body forced her to become even more well suited to negotiation and talks than the battlefield. With her expertise she was the one to make the discovery, corruption within the government of major cities. With the power of purification they were able to identify and purify the corruption, and reinstate Government that the people truly cared for.

It was then it was mandated that a Shepherd would be instilled in every city alongside the Lord of the Land. Their already thin numbers would grow thinner yet; the need for Shepherds kept growing. It turned out to be a great idea. After this change was implemented, they found the malevolence thinned out greatly.

And so they continued their efforts, Mikleo returned to teaching between expeditions with Shepherds willing to travel with him. Rose and Alisha married, the first officiated Human and Seraphim. Their union was iconic, Rose’s everlasting beauty and Alisha’s graceful aging that could not be stopped. They adored each other as happy couples should. It would be another three decades before Alisha passed away.

He would never forget that day. She had become frail in her old age, surrounded by friends when Alisha closed her eyes for the last time. He held Rose as she cried, both praying and pleading to Maotelus to let her come back. She had been a good Shepherd, despite being born with low resonance. He comforted Rose as he had prepared her, not all Shepherds are reborn.

When her spirit left her body was a tense moment. The hope, the needed expectation that something would happen lingered thick in the air. Thankfully, something did; an Earth Seraph was born as a beautiful young woman, blonde with orange tipped hair, and no recollection of her past.

At first, it was almost more difficult and painful for Rose than if she had died. Rose was kind and patient. She helped guide the new Seraph into understanding the life she once had, with no expectation that she would be the same person as before, or that they would become anything more than friends. It took many years, but eventually the Seraph Alisha fell in love with Rose, devoted as ever, renewing their vows over again.

Far away, whispers began to circulate that the Northern gate of Zaphgott Moor had opened. Beyond that gate lay the untouched land of Northgand. The trade routes had been purified enough that travel had been deemed possible, yet no one knew if anything lived beyond the gates.

 _“It says here the land of Northgand was a center of cultural artistry,”_ he said, clutching a book in his hands, pacing back and forth at the Academy. _“A rich, lavish culture documented in literature books that have been lost to us, until now. Think of all the knowledge that’s been lost to the ages. Think of all the literature!”_

 _“I still don’t know if it’s the right thing to fund an expedition,”_ said Rose, the acting Treasurer of the Academy. Rose was the right choice as Treasurer. Wise, cautious and shrewd, she had invested their funds throughout the decades in assets that paid dividends on top of dividends. She had made the comment more than once, that having a long life was like cheating. In turn, they and the Academy were wealthy beyond expectation despite investing so much into progressing human and Seraph relations.

 _“An explorative mission, no more than that,”_ Alisha had said. _“If things become dangerous, you are to return immediately. Do you understand?”_

 _“I’ll organize the scholars,”_ he responded. _“We’ll set off in a week.”_

And so the Grand Seraph of Water Mikleo, his Shepherd Caleb and Fire Seraph Sub Lord Elouise set forth with a caravan full of scholars and warriors. The endless winter of the northern land was layered with never ending blankets of snow. He was pleased to secure himself a vial of the snow for a sample, enchanted to stay frozen for his collection. There were few hellions along the way, the concentration grew thicker as they reached Meirchio.

The gates were decorated with intricately carved statues of flora and fauna, indicative of construction during the height of the Era of Asgard. When talking to the citizens it was the same story they’d seen over and over again; a town with no Lord of the Land, dominated by malevolence. By the word of the townspeople, their Empress, Morgan was as fearsome and cruel as she was beautiful.

The formidable raven haired empress sat on her throne, adorned in silver chains and delicate gemstones. He asked about their library. She demanded Mikleo as a consort. They negotiated, and eventually he agreed to the terms. She took him and abused him, over and over again. Cutting him, binding, burning, and violating him.

Their armatus tensed again as Sorey recognized the story before the Mikleo in memory had understood; that Morgan was a hellion.

He returned to his Shepherd thick with malevolence, only saved by Elouise’s burning flames. They found the Lord of the Land, the Empress’ Water Seraph consort. It took time, but once she was purified the town was safe from malevolence. Satisfied with their accomplishment, they returned to the Academy with handwritten copies of forty books, and another purified town added to trade routes.

 _“You idiot!”_ Rose had exclaimed. _“You were their Prime. We could have lost you! You could have-”_

_“I’m sorry, Mikleo. Rose is right. You’re on probation until further notice.”_

Mikleo angrily agreed that it was about time he got a break, and left. He wandered West, the echo of Morgan’s torment still fresh in his mind. He felt the need, the desire of companionship, and the desire to be punished. He left in disguise, scouring for a house of pleasure, and finding one in a nearby city.

 _“Password?”_ asked a man, sliding a tiny eye-level slot open on the door.

Mikleo held up a small bag. _“I seek pleasure. I have gald.”_

 _“You’ve come to the right place,”_ said the man, unlocking the door.

Inside he was offered various drink, food and a strange device from which to smoke.

 _“Strip,”_ he was told, before his hands were bound behind his back. He remembered the sliding of a blindfold over his eyes and tugging of his hair, and nothing more.

He woke days later, in his own bed, Zaveid by his side.

_“You’re up! Thank the Five Lords. You really gave us a scare this time, Mikky.”_

_“Why are you here?”_

_“What? You- I had to save you. You got drugged. They were doing all sorts of- I couldn’t leave you there. Are you insane?”_

_“You should have left me to die,”_ he said hoarsely, rolling away.

_“And what would Sorey say? Come on, Mikky, snap out of it.”_

_“Nothing. He’s not going to wake up anyway.”_

The fists of their Armatus tensed.

_“Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that.”_

_“I can’t purify. I can’t teach. I’m worthless.”_

_“You’re not worthless, Mikleo.”_

_“‘I’m worthless. Forget our dream. I’m not allowed to- I can’t help anymore.”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“Rose and Alisha put me on probation.”_

_“Well I ain’t Rose or Alisha. I’m taking you with my Shepherd. You and I are going to travel together for a while, bud.”_

_“Zaveid-”_

_“I don’t care what they say. I know how strong you are.”_

To his surprise, Zaveid climbed in the bed behind him and held him tightly. Zaveid truly cared for him, serving as a father figure for many years. It would not be the first time he consoled him through a depressive episode, and it would certainly not be the last. They laid together until he felt well enough to leave, thankful for his friend’s company.

They travelled together for several years. Mikleo visited the crater on the one hundredth anniversary of Sorey’s sleep, eager to show off his new white coat to the light. His hair reached his upper back, pulled in as high a ponytail as the length would allow. He continued to train, finding the courtyard behind his home had begun to grow blue floral crystals, shining rivulets of ore indicative of a Seraphim of great power.

After a few more years, he and Zaveid went their separate ways. He was permitted once again to teach, and travel with his own Shepherd. The malevolence of the land continued to steadily decline. More Seraphim were agreeing to be part of their cause, and even more were agreeing to live alongside humans, finding the levels of malevolence to be more than tolerable.

He met a young Fire Seraph, Lise. He and Lise travelled with a young couple, a Shepherd and his Squire wife. As he was notorious for, he began sleeping with Lise. Comfort brought the simplicity of the slippery slope he presented. Soon their relationship devolved into convincing their vessels that it would be acceptable to conjugate beside them. Then came partner switching and armatus sex, Mikleo happy to armatize with either human partner.

After over a year, Mikleo was removed from the group.

 _“You’re far too selfish,”_ they had said. _“It’s not about about you.”_

It was true that he was selfish. Even with three partners at once, he wanted more. It took more and more to satisfy his void. He disappeared regularly to find more willing partners, which had become easier and easier. He was confident, tall and attractive. The world was his oyster. Women flocked to him, men experimented with him, he had his pick of either and any. It wasn’t a challenge anymore to find those who denied him at first to find themselves inviting him into their bed. There was no reason it shouldn’t be all about him, the desirable, beautiful Grand Seraph.

He continued his quest for purification, exploration and pleasure. He published Volume Two of the Celestial Record, and was pleased to see the volume of available Shepherds. More and more humans were born with strong resonance and spiritual affinity. His reputation as dangerous, high maintenance and promiscuous solidified as Shepherds became more and more selective with him as well. Despite their condemnation, there was a great enough selection that he had no problem finding strong Shepherds to travel with anymore, or partners that begged him to bless their lives.

Another hundred years passed. Volume Three of the Celestial Record was published, he added another two tails to his coat, and he never stopped training.

After another hundred years, Volume Four and Five were published. Between a few small tensions between cities, no major wars developed; nearly all malevolence had been purified from the land.

He remembered his excitement the evening he first saw the Earth Seraph Radelle. He had attended her groundbreaking performance, the lead ballerina in a localization of a ballet from the literature of Merichio. To him, it was a turning point in Seraphim integration and acceptance. Only deniers and those of exceptionally low resonance would not see her. Her representation of integration of Seraphim in human culture was revolutionary.

His treatment towards her was not. After she slept with him he answered a knock at his inn door to find the lead danseur of the same ballet. He had slept with him earlier that evening, and had returned to Mikleo’s room to beg him for more than just a one night stand.

 _“You’re a pig,”_ she had said, shoving her way out of the room. His Shepherd had heard the commotion, awakening him from a nearby room and scolding him for the last time before releasing him from their pact, leaving him Shepherdless once again.

He returned to the Ladylake Sanctuary drunk and in a cloud of malevolence. Zaveid recognized the pattern in disappointment. Rose and Alisha passed their judgment, and Uno called it off for the last and final time.

It was Zaveid once again who offered to share his Shepherd, unable to watch Mikleo destroy himself. He was thankful for the vessel, able to travel once again.

_“Sorey. I really messed up this time.”_

His memory found himself visiting the crater, speaking his heart to the light.

_“You were the best seventeen years of my life, without a doubt. My favorite vessel, my favorite person. I miss having someone so upbeat and kind. I miss having you, pushing me, competing with me to always do our best.”_

_“I keep letting malevolence in. I’ve been purified now more times than I can count. Never hellionized, but everyone fears it. They all think I’m going to turn into a dragon and raze the Earth. Of course I don’t want that. It’s just so hard sometimes to push away these thoughts. I want to be able to meet you when you wake up. I want to be the first person you see, and talk to you about the wonderful changes that have happened.”_ _  
  
_

_“I need to stay strong for you. I know that if we keep working hard, you’ll wake up.”_

He felt a tear escape from their Armatus, unsure entirely who it belonged to.

From the crater, he left to check on the up and coming students at Strelka School of Martial Arts. There he met with Armand Strelka, a clear and obvious descendent of Sergei.  

_“I’m very impressed with this class. “We have several students that show incredible promise that I know you will love when they make it to the Academy.”_

Two students were sparring. The memory froze when he recognized of one of the boys from their mop of messy blonde hair.

“Mikleo, you don’t have to continue,” their armatized voices called out.

“No,” he echoed, “I do. I promised you everything.”

“Only if you’re sure.”

He paused for a moment before diving back into the memory.

Mikleo’s eyes met Oscar's. Messy blonde hair framed his delicate, poignant face and brilliant green eyes. Just like Sorey’s.

 _“I have someone I'd like you to meet,”_ said Armand. _“This is Grand Seraph Mikleo, one of Shepherd Sorey’s original companions, world renowned author, and Professor at Diphda Academy.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“I am honored, Grand Seraph.”_

Mikleo summoned his staff, held at the ready. Surprised, Oscar took him up on his invitation to spar, finding that he could not defeat the Grand Seraph, at first.

 _  
__“Your left side is wide open._ _Only by recognizing my weaknesses would you have a chance.”_ _  
_  
Then, Oscar came at him hard and fast. Swinging wild, angry and determined. Mikleo blocked blow after blow, walking backwards. He hooked his sword under Mikleo's right side and flung the staff away, leaping forward and knocking Mikleo to the floor. He stood with one foot atop the chest of the Grand Seraph, sword poised at his neck.  
  
Mikleo blinked unexpectedly, watching the young boy’s chest heaving, fire in his eyes. Oscar then stepped back and offered his own hand to help Mikleo up.  
  
_“And your right is open.”_ Oscar turned away.  
  
_“Excellent work. But remember, I am using no artes - and a fighting style so aggressive will leave you more open to problems.”_

 _“Then fight me with artes.”_ _  
_  
_“You would die.”_

After, he discussed his potential future at the Academy with Armand.

“ _I want him as soon as you feel ready to release him. He's going to be an extraordinary Shepherd.”_ _  
_  
_“Lord Mikleo, he is unstable. He fights with the other students. He's not ready.”_  
  
_“Then I trust you. When you feel he ready, if he ever is, send him.”_

  
_“Yes sir, of course. Glad to have your blessing.”_

“It’s all so obvious now,” Mikleo echoed. “He was a hellion even then.”

“Mikleo, you can stop,” their voices said together.

“No, I’m fine. It’s fine,” he echoed, diving back into the memory.

 _“Mikleo. We have a new student.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“We've met,”_ said the boy, slipping past Alisha. Quick as lightning, he ran to Mikleo, grabbed his hand and knelt. Mikleo looked down at the young boy kissing his gloved hand.

  
_“Oscar Dragonia. We meet again, so soon, too.”_

Oscar had hardly attended the school for a matter of hours before finding himself in a fight with the other students. He reluctantly apologized, only behaving when under Mikleo’s direction.

_“You will behave or you will be removed. Unchecked aggression will open your heart to malevolence. This behavior is unacceptable for a Shepherd to harbor.”_

It became a repeat story with Oscar. He was a perfect student, doing everything Mikleo asked so long as he was watching. The moment Mikleo was not there to control him, he would act up and nearly get himself thrown out.

Years passed and he found himself glued to the Academy, teaching every one of Oscar’s classes that he could. Oscar became his project, his progeny. There was no secret that he felt a strong connection to the boy simply because he reminded him of Sorey.

He felt a swell of guilt blooming in their shared heart.

“I was a fool,” he echoed. “I missed you. I saw you in everything. Don’t blame yourself even for a moment.”

Before Sorey could respond, he dove back into the memory.

_“You promised you'd take me after I finished reading.”_

At seventeen years old, Oscar manipulated his way into the Tintagel ruins. A strange, unexpected hellion attack forced Mikleo’s hand into a reluctant pact. It was obvious, again, knowing what he knew now that Oscar had likely brought the malevolence, the architect of the scenario.

They armatized, finding that their armatus was the most balanced one Mikleo had been a part of since Rose.

Three days later Oscar woke. Safe from danger, Mikleo broke their pact. It would be another four years before he agreed to take him on as a Shepherd, and serve him as his Prime Lord.

 _“Please, Mikleo. Please don't travel with him.”_ Lailah knew.

He should have known too, looking back on all the snide, undermining comments, the irreverent way he challenged Mikleo. There was never anything but false respect, a persona created entirely to get his way.

The first clear sign was when Oscar showed up at his home.

He had never shared where he lived, yet Oscar arrived at his door. He had told Mikleo that he had sensed him, not something a normal Shepherd could do; certainly a hellion could have sniffed him out. He should have known from the signs, his obsessive jealousy of his friends, and the fire in his vessel that he reluctantly spent more and more time within.

He broke the pact once before leaving Ladylake. He then relented after what seemed like a heartfelt apology, agreeing to travel with him again.

Oscar had a solid theory on where malevolence may still lay. He turned out to be correct as they visited each major Earthpulse point on the land, discovering yet undisturbed ruins and hellion troves. Mikleo spent his days purifying and his evenings writing, working diligently on Volume Six.

The void in his heart aching, he found himself climbing into Oscar’s bed. He did nothing sexual to Oscar’s dismay, only laying in proximity for companionship. Oscar pushed for more, kissing Mikleo’s neck and touching his body, but found no desire from the Seraph for anything beyond cuddling. Nor did he find resistance.

So Oscar set to work on wearing him down. He continued to make brilliant discoveries that pleased Mikleo. He had his missteps too, bouts of anger and violence towards inanimate objects, sometimes enough to generate malevolence which Mikleo was quick to purify. He was volatile, his passion focused by Mikleo’s guiding hand.

It would be three months before their first kiss, and a year before they slept together. It was the slowest Mikleo had moved with anyone.

 _“I love you,”_ Oscar had said, after their first time.  
_  
_ _“I love you too.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“I'm in love with you, Mikleo.”_  
  
Mikleo said nothing in response.

It was also the first time he was able to commit to monogamy. He travelled with Oscar for three years before he was convinced to retire in Rodine.

“ _My body tires of travel,_ ” Oscar had said. _“Rodine still suffers hellion attacks. It’s the right thing to do.”_

Before committing to retirement, he visited Sorey once more. He stepped down the cloaked staircase into the crater. He laid on the flat rock, arm outstretched toward the light.  
  
_“Sorey. I'm back. Sorry it took me so long. The air is clearer than ever. The malevolence is greatly at bay. Why haven't you- Why won't you wake-”_

He choked on his words, staring at the sky, watching Sorey's light blend into the clouds.  
_  
_ _“I thought if we quelled enough malevolence, you were supposed to wake up. I've worked so hard, Sorey. We have Shepherds everywhere. There's hardly anything left. How can Maotelus still be-”_

_“I miss you. I want you to come back. I've done everything, Sorey, I've gone everywhere. I want to explore the world with you, and show you everything I've learned.”_

Oscar had interrupted his time with Sorey, a human on sacred grounds, unable to breach Mikleo’s seal. He had scolded Mikleo and convinced him it was time to leave. He reluctantly agreed, resting in the flames of his vessel until reaching Rodine.

Once in Rodine, he was informed of the famine. Mikleo vowed to reduce eating, saving food for the humans. Within the first few months they found a nest of malevolence and purified it. Under false pretense that was all the malevolence to speak of, he began working on finishing Volume Six full time.

Oscar seemed to do everything in his power to keep Mikleo at home, making up excuses and reasons for himself to be the only one present at their daily clergy meetings.

_You can finally rest. They don’t need to bother you. You can spend time working on your book. They’re still wary of your great power._

Slowly his praise became neglect.

_I would tell you if we need you, but we won’t. Why would they need you? Don’t waste our resources. What do you even spend your time doing all day?_

He began coming home drunk several times his week, demanding to have his way with Mikleo, his behavior far more violent than was necessary. Yet Mikleo allowed it, he believed it kept the malevolence in his heart at bay. With companionship he could drive the void away.

One day Zaveid showed up at his door. It was a pleasant surprise, until Oscar jealously kicked him out of their home.

 _“Something on the winds told me I needed to see you,”_ he had said. And he had been right.

His dreams began blurring with reality. Nightmares of becoming a hellion haunted him. One night he had awoken, asking for comfort in Oscar and finding a dismissive response. He left and spent the night on the roof.

_Sorey is dreaming under the same night sky. I hope his dreams are better than mine._

The next morning, he witnessed the nearby Farmers Market setting up with a plentiful harvest; evidence there was never a famine. Curious, he decided to pay a visit, only to find the citizens terrified of him.

 _“We heard you had fallen ill.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“We heard you were suffering from a disease that only affects Seraphim.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“We heard you were bringing malevolence.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Lord Mikleo, you look fine. Why aren't you helping the church?”_

One kind citizen brought him to the caves where the clergy were spending their days, deep in thickly drenched malevolence. He had been unable to sense the malevolence in the catacombs just as he had been unable to tell Oscar was a hellion. It must have all been his doing.

He summoned a grand torrent of water in the catacomb, the most he had ever summoned in any one arte. It exhausted him to the core, yet he found enough strength to confront Oscar and break his pact. Oscar was foolish enough to try to fight, and found himself immediately immobilized and rendered useless.

He had cited glory as his motive, that history would never remember him in Mikleo’s shadow. Mikleo had informed him, less than kindly, that he was content to always be in Sorey’s shadow.

 _“He's why you never... You could never...”  
  
_ _“Why I could never truly love you? Perhaps. Maybe it was because he was- is so much more than you, it wouldn't be fair to compare.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“He'll never wake up,”_ Oscar had growled.  
_  
_ _“Oh, but he will.”_

And so he left Rodine, taking his few possessions with him and leaving Oscar for the last time.

He returned to Ladylake, wondering if he should take a break from humans for a while. It was then that he remembered Sorey’s words.

_“My dream will live on, so long as I don't forget.”_

He rushed to the balcony and opened the doors. Steady as always, Sorey's light streamed to the heavens.  
  
Sorey gave him hope.  
  
Something stirred inside him. A great longing and aching. Sorrow. Hope. Accomplishment. Disappointment. His life without Sorey flashed before his eyes. And finally, without warning, for first time in three hundred and twelve years, since the day he lost Sorey, the dam broke.  
  
Mikleo finally cried.  
  
He cried with his whole heart. His face tickled and ached at the feeling of his own hot tears. He sobbed and whined. His breaths short, his mind both racing and calm.  
  
Sorey had to come back. He was lost without him.  
  
It was then that he realized-

  
  
  
  


* * *

 

  
  


The Armatus broke, Mikleo’s chest heaving. He gasped for air, his breaths strained and panicked as though his throat may close at any moment. Sorey sat by him on the bed, unmoving, patient for his breath to return to normal. His heartbeat was wild in comparison to Sorey’s slow, steady, even rhythm.

“Are you okay?” asked Sorey.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, nodding.

“Your nose,” he said, reaching his hand toward Mikleo’s face.

Mikleo jerked back, touching his fingers to his face and finding them wet. He looked at his shaking hands and found blood. He frantically wiped at his nose until there was no blood remaining.

“That was when you realized you didn’t need companionship,” offered Sorey.

“Yeah,” accepted Mikleo, pleased that Sorey did not understand how close he was to the truth.

Sorey nodded slowly.

“Are you ready to continue?” asked Mikleo.

“We don’t have to,” said Sorey.

“I promised everything. Let’s get this over with.”

Sorey drew in a few deep breaths, his eyes clearly troubled. Yet, he obliged in whispering Mikleo’s true name.

  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  


 

Maotelus had awoken. A large, white dragon perched by the crater, stretching and flexing his wings as Sorey's light streamed behind him.

Zaveid and Edna were with him when they met him at the crater. Edna had grown into a beautiful young woman, her hair only a touch longer than it had always been. He knelt, his head to the floor in respect when he heard the sound of a young boy’s laughter.

_“How have you been, little man?”_

Mikleo peeked up to see Zaveid swinging around a young, smiling boy. The boy looked to be about ten years old, blonde shaggy cowlicked hair with white tips. He wore white robes, embellished with gold and blue. The dragon was nowhere to be seen.

Thoroughly confused, Zaveid explained that Maotelus was never a formidable Lord but a kind, young man that gave himself to the balance far too young.

_“Sorey dreams of you often. He wants you to know that he's okay.”_

With those words lost his composure, and cried on Maotelus’ small shoulder for a long while.

_“Can you... can you tell him I'm okay too?”_

He felt Sorey’s hand in the Armatus clutching at the fabric over their heart. Their shared mind was turbulent as though they disagreed; Mikleo was not okay.

There was a change in the Mikleo of memory too; His confidence deeply shaken, his facade broken. There was only the raw, emotional version of Mikleo now, weathered by experience and shaped by necessity, a machine of war devoted to his cause.

Maotelus explained to Mikleo the difficulty in communication between himself and his vessel. It was then he realized that every word, every confession, every explanation he had ever spoken to Sorey had never been heard.

Maotelus spoke of gifts. He grew weary, needing to return to his vessel.

They headed back to Camlann where they found the first of their gifts; a reborn Seraph, someone from Mikleo’s past with great resonance that had done a great service to both Seraphim and humans alike.

Muse.

 _"My Mikleo?”_ she had asked.

 _“Yes,”_ he said, trying not to catch the word in his throat.

Her arms wrapped around him, one at a time as she pulled him close to her body.  
  
_“My son.”_ _  
_  
His arms wove around her, tightening as he felt her body shiver with sobs.    
  
_“My beautiful son.”_

He took her to Elysia. He caught her up on the happenings between Gramps, Heldalf, Maotelus and Sorey. She was positive and kind, loving and encouraging. He realized how much he missed in not having a Mother. He had hardly met her and the love he had for her was like nothing else he’d ever felt. He needed her more than he realized, more than he could put into words.

Then, something strange happened; It seemed the other Great Lords had responded in kind, each producing a Seraphim child for the corresponding four elements. The four children were birthed of the Earthpulse by the Elysian mountainside. Zaveid offered some of his own form of guidance in experience.

 _“Back in my day... over a thousand years ago, I used to take care of little ones at an orphanage. Raised them up, taught them life’s basics...”_ _  
_  
_“Then you can help,”_ Muse had said.

With a bit of reluctance, Zaveid offered to stay behind. Muse was given Gramps’ vacant home to raise the children and live within.

Mikleo returned to Ladylake with Edna in tow, greeted at the gates by Rose. He had expressed that Maotelus had shared that Sorey was still human, his body in stasis, not reborn as a Seraph. Rose comforted him in this fact, knowing that Mikleo had deeply hoped that his friend would have more than a short human life to look forward to.

Edna followed Rose into the city for mabo curry buns, per Maotelus’ request. It seemed that Maotelus had given her that request as a reason to see her again, it was easy to conclude the Fifth Lord had a bit of a crush on her.

Mikleo met Alisha at the school, announcing his return as Professor. He would stay until he figured out how to hurry the purification of the world. Knowing the land was near fully purified, it only left the sea.

 _“The Earth is purified, but the oceans are not. We must change our curriculum to prepare for seafaring.”_ _  
_ _  
_ Alisha nodded. _“That’s a tall order.”_  
  
_“I’ll be here to assist.”_ Mikleo nodded at her knowingly. _“We have work to do.”_

He visited Maotelus often, finding his mapmaking skills a great help.

 _“This coast here. You'll need a ship, and a crew of course.”_ Maotelus pointed to the Northeastern coast carved in the dirt, far East of Ladylake. _“There’s an establishment there now, but you’ll have to help them along.”_

It took him three days to find the establishment. New Taliesin had been founded not too long prior, a tiny poor establishment built on the steep ruins of a cliff city long since destroyed. The new town was too small for a proper Mayorship, town Shepherd or Lord of the Land.

It was there he met Faye.

Faye was the daughter of the lead Elder of New Taliesin. She had hazel eyes and short red hair, her rambunctious demeanor reminding him of young Rose. She brought him to their council, where he offered to fund the town. His goal was to guide the town into becoming a strong port city with skilled craftsmen, shipwrights and ultimately sailors.

Mikleo spent the next two days visiting each townsperson, helping them with everything from watering crops to home repairs. He chatted with the children of the town, inspiring them with pirate stories from distant books, promising to send them copies.

He left, promising to return twice a year to check on the town’s progress. It wasn’t long before a Shepherd and Lord of the Land were instated under his direction. He and Faye became fast friends, she watched for him every other season, anticipating his return. He felt her longing for more, and his proud, easy resistance. He no longer felt controlled by his void. He wondered if it truly meant his adolescence was over, no longer driven by desire and pleasure seeking behaviors. He found himself fiddling with the Elysialark feathers on his belt often when he thought of companionship, his goals, and of Sorey.

With nothing to purify, he spent his time teaching at the Academy. Alisha had relegated him to youngling duty, trading his days of history and theory debate with arts and crafts. It helped temper him, his patience finally earned. He was pleased to see the deep strength in spiritual affinity and resonance that this new class had shown. He guided the children to learn more and more about seafaring. He found himself eager for their graduation, itching to return to combat, and visiting the oceanside town of New Taliesin often.

_“We’ve built our first seaworthy vessel. Well, I say seaworthy, but really coast-worthy... take a look!”_

Faye’s family of wrights had built a small boat, seated beside a new, freshly placed dock. The smell of freshly cut cedar was overcome by the salty spray, and the whispers of the ocean.

_“The ocean, it’s... it’s right here. We’re so close, Faye.”_

She took him on the small boat, a poorly constructed rope all that kept them anchored to the dock. They reached as far as the rope would stretch before Mikleo dove off the side of the boat, finding the great mana of the ocean deeply exhilarating.

Any further, and he would run into a greater malevolence than a Lord of the Land’s domain would reach. He would need a strong Shepherd for their first expeditions, one extraordinary enough to house his power and protect him from the unknown depths.

She offered herself, as many had. And he denied her, as he should have. She was of average affinity, deeply useful exactly where she was, an aspiring wright, guiding the town to success in his absence.

 _“Please,”_ Mikleo pleaded. _“Don't let me change your course.”_ _  
_  
_“But you already have. Don't you see how much the town has grown? Everything, the craftsmen, the schools, even our homes... Our lives have all changed because of you. Our successes, our happiness, we already owe you everything we have.”_ _  
_  
_“No. New Taliesin has changed because of what Maotelus asked of us to save the Sleeping Shepherd. I'm just the messenger. The Enforcer.”_

He returned to the Academy as he had, continuing to teach his young students. Between classes he found the time to visit Sorey at the crater, and his family in Elysia.

It was an awkward conversation with Zaveid, to find that he had fallen in love with his mother, Muse. She had given him her True Name, before Mikleo had known it himself.

Years passed with little progress to speak of. The Wrights of New Taliesin continued their progress on larger and larger seaworthy vessels, their skills increasing and attracting more and more skilled craftsmen to their growing town. His class of Shepherds, now seventeen held two students of great promise; a young raven haired youth Aiden, and a less skilled brunet Dylan.

Mikleo found himself frustrated with Aidan. As the brightest star of his class, he had not completed training at the Strelka School of Martial Arts, rendering him unable to graduate from Diphda Academy.

 _“Aiden,”_ Mikleo had gently offered. _“Your spiritual aptitude is off the charts. You haven’t completed the trials, yet your resonance is like nothing I’ve seen in my four hundred and forty seven years.”_  
  
_“Then I should get the boat.”_  
  
_“It doesn’t work like that. This is an important purification mission. You have to be in sync with your Seraphim companions. You have to be able to support them in armatization and purification. You must be able to fight.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“I can fight.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“And your weapon is?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“My fists.”_ _  
_  
_“That’s not going to cut it. You’re untrained. You need a weapon.”_  
  
Aiden slammed his hands on his desk. His vibrant eyes burned with determination. _“I can prove it. Fight me.”_ _  
_  
Mikleo watched the boy, stunned. He exuded no malevolence, determined and pure. Mikleo’s curiosity towards him was strong, his aptitude, his driving desire.  
  
_“You would die. And with that attitude, your Seraphim companions would die too.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Fight me, Professor. I’ve seen you use seals on people. Seal me. And if I win, you promise me a spot on the boat.”_

Mikleo sealed his student, and led him to the courtyard. He was pleased to find that Aiden was correct, he had extraordinary skill with hand to hand combat, using Martial Artes despite his lack of formal training. It was, however, not enough. Mikleo was beyond powerful and struck him down with his weakest of spells.

_“You and your Seraphim are dead. Drowned by a water hellion.”_

He and Aiden could not see eye to eye. Refusing to follow directive Aiden dropped out of the Academy, demanding that he would not truly be alive if he could not steer the ship of his fate. Mikleo found himself continuing onward, grooming Dylan as his Shepherd of choice.

He visited Faye, pleased to see her plump from a second pregnancy. It would be twins this time. He was glad she moved on, despite naming her first daughter, Michaela, after him. She had married their master wright, Torvald, a strong man; a human, able to give her a family, something Mikleo could never do.

He wavered for a moment, then continued the memory.

 _“Have you decided on a name?”_ Torvald had asked regarding the schooner they had begun construction on.  
  
_“I have. The Van Dravia. It means Sword of the Divine.”_

Five years passed. He trained hard with Dylan, disappointed in the weakness of their armatus. Alisha had offered to spar with them, as she often had. The class watched as Mikleo guided their armatus to a shaky and somewhat disappointing victory.

_“Very good, Professor! Now fight me.”_

They turned to see Aiden, the drop out from five years prior. He wore a weathered long coat, his raven hair shaggy and unkempt.

_“Fight me. And if I win, I take Mikleo as a Sub Lord.”_

Mikleo sensed that Aiden had made a pact, carrying a Seraphim as their vessel. Aiden was a formidable opponent, now capable of impossibly controlling Seraphic Artes. It was not something a normal human could do. Mikleo lost, discovering the pact Aiden had made was with none other than Edna.

 _“Meet your new Prime, Meebo.”_ She curtseyed gracefully.  
  
_“Are you kidding me?”_ he muttered to himself.

_“Here let our pact be forged, that my unquavering incandescence may be as thy purification. Get over here, nerd.”_

The pact was made.

 _“Edna, can I ask what the hell is going on? You hate humans, but you show up and coach the best dropout we’ve ever had into winning against me. While I was armatized.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Dylan’s not as good a choice as I am,”_ called Aiden. _“He’ll fall apart in a real fight.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“You were always our top choice,”_ Mikleo had said, voice full of regret.  
  
_“He’s also not just any human,”_ said Edna.  
  
_“Well I know that. He’s-”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“He’s my brother.”_ _  
_  
Twenty two years prior Maotelus had promised a gift. It took him time to understand the possibility of who he may have been, with no memory of his prior life. It was a tremendous burden for a human to process.

They brought him to Zaveid and Muse. Zaveid affirmed that if he was truly Eizen, he would not leave his side, and demanded a pact. Muse had been training with Maotelus and had prepared for combat, offering herself as a Sub Lord as well. With the Grand Seraphs of Water, Earth and Wind, a Void Seraph personally trained by Maotelus alongside the strongest Shepherd the world had to offer, Mikleo found himself confident in their upcoming maiden voyage.

_“Hello again, friend. We’re leaving soon to the first offshore Earthpulse point. I don’t know when I will be back, a few months at least,...”_

He skipped ahead in the memory. He trained hard with Aiden and their combined Water Armatus, knowing that he would be their strongest ranged attacker. They did not know what they would be facing, only that Mikleo would be a great asset for any combat that involved submersion in water. They mapped a route to the closest major Earthpulse point, and prepared the Van Dravia for departure.

Finally, it was the evening before their maiden voyage. Uno made a rare exception to see Mikleo off, leaving his post at Ladylake.

 _“Mik... you can’t go.”_ _  
_  
_“Not you too,”_ he muttered, sitting beside Uno. Their legs hung off the edge of the cliff beside New Taliesin, their shadows from the setting sun tracing the mountainside.  
_  
_ _“It’s too much malevolence. You’ll turn.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“I’ll be fine.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“It’s water, damnit. Mik... You hear it calling, don’t you?”_ _  
_  
Mikleo looked away.  
  
_“You do.”_ Uno folded his arms.  
  
_“Yeah.”_ Mikleo shifted uncomfortably.  
  
_“This is a fool's’ errand. You’ll die.”_ Uno’s words were curt with severity.  
  
Mikleo shut his eyes tightly.  
  
_“If I cleanse enough malevolence for Sorey to wake up even a minute sooner, death will have been worth it.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“You’re obsessed with humans.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Just one,”_ said Mikleo.

He stayed with Uno that night, meditating under the stars and forgoing the inn room he had reserved.

They boarded the boat bright and early, waving goodbyes to Lailah, Rose, Alisha and Uno. It took them very little time to get into the barrels of whiskey and rum they had packed for the expedition, singing long since forgotten sea shanties that Zaveid had remembered and Aiden had read about in books.

Anxiety rattled deep in his bones. The ocean called to him. He tried taking a nap, finding only a few hours had passed, the sun shining brightly overhead. He resurfaced to the deck, kicking his legs in frustration.

 _“My son,”_ Muse called from across the deck. _“Are you alright?”_  
  
_“Throw me a rope when I resurface,”_ he had said, removing his gloves and coat, folding them neatly and setting the pile on the deck.  
  
_“Mikleo, please, not here, it’s too malevolent-”_ _  
_  
He had already dove off the tall sides of the ship. The sound of rushing bubbles filled Mikleo’s ears. The water was cold and refreshing, satisfying his burning need to be immersed. The malevolence was certainly strong, as Muse was trying to warn. He felt it trying to permeate his body and his mind. He kept his guard up in resistance.  
  
_I’ll stay within Aiden’s domain. I’ll be safe._

He sunk further in the ocean, finding a discovery near immediately; a small portion of the ruins within the domain that he could swim through. He thought about how to find this exact spot again so that he could bring Sorey in the future.  
  
It was always for Sorey. He would most certainly die for him without a second thought.  
  
He smiled to himself, confident that there would surely be an argument whether these ruins were from the Temperance of Avarost or Era of Asgard. His fingers ran over a tablet, the letters too worn to read and coated with algae. Schools of tiny silvery fish swam around his fingers, glittering and sparkling under the filtered light.  
  
He felt satisfaction deep within his soul, encompassed in his element. He had already made a discovery. He swam back up to the surface, using Aiden’s domain to guide him back to the boat.  
  
He surfaced, noting the darkened sky.

 _“You reek of malevolence,”_ Muse had said, glaring.

Confused, Mikleo recanted the events. He had stayed within Aiden’s domain, or so he thought. Yet he was drenched in malevolence, the poison affecting his vessel.

 _“You’ve been gone for hours, Mikster. He wasn’t able to sense you, and now he’s like this,”_ Zaveid had said.  
  
_“That’s not possible. I was only over for a few minutes.”_

Zaveid offered to purify him with his winds. Mikleo declined angrily, choosing to bathe himself in his own purifying waters. It was in the bathtub of his chambers that he had a vision; a vision of Sorey.

He paused, blackness clouding their vision and blocking the memory.

“It’s okay,” their voices offered. “I need to know what happens here.”

He listened to their heartbeat for a moment before continuing the painful memory.

 _“Sorey,”_ he said, his throat catching on the word.  
  
_“Mikleo.”_ Sorey smiled. Mikleo felt himself melting at the sound of his name on his best friend’s beautiful lips.  
  
_“I’m... It’s good to see you.”_ He stepped closer to his friend, heart racing.  
  
Sorey furrowed his brow, his lips still curled into a smile. _“Why?”_  
  
_“What... what do you mean why?”_ Mikleo sputtered. “ _I’ve waited hundreds of years for you to wake up.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“But you didn’t wait, did you.”_ _  
_  
Mikleo froze.  
_  
_ _“You didn’t wait, and now you’re disgusting.”_

Sorey’s words pierced Mikleo’s heart like a knife. The idea that Sorey would reject him because of his sordid past was a very real possibility. The world seemed to dissolve around him, black acid eating away at the sky. There was no escape, only the growing fear and darkness in his heart.  
_  
_ _“Sorey, no, please...”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Why would I want someone like you?”_ Sorey turned away. _“Please go.”_ _  
_  
_“But Sorey...”_ Mikleo cried. _“I thought we were friends, I thought...”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“You thought wrong. Stop chasing me around,”_ he spat.  
  
Mikleo dropped to his knees.  
_  
_ _“Sorey...”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“You’re pathetic.”_ Sorey began to walk away.  
  
Mikleo hugged his arms around his own body. _“Sorey, please...”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Why would I want to be around you?”_ Sorey continued walking.  
  
_“Sorey,”_ Mikleo cried. _“You’re my best friend! How can you say that?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Pathetic and disgusting,”_ muttered Sorey.  
  
_“Sorey!”_ Mikleo screamed. His body burned, pinpricks of pain shooting through his muscles. He couldn’t care. If his Sorey didn’t love him, there was nothing worth living for, in this world or any other.  
  
His flesh seemed to harden and fold in on itself, brilliant iridescent diamond scales punching through his skin. His fingers grew large talons, his soft skin becoming rough and scaled. He screamed in agony.  
  
The Sorey of his vision turned. _“What’s this?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Sorey...”_ Mikleo’s voice felt foreign in his snouted mouth, doubled and strange. His body continued to distort and reshape.  
  
The Sorey in his vision hummed to himself. _“Now this, this is interesting.”_

Again, the memory paused.

“I’m sorry,” echoed Mikleo. “I was weak.”

Sorey clutched the fabric over their shared heart, beating as one.

“They used me to turn you against them.” The voice of their armatus shook.

“And I fell for it.”

“Mikleo, I’m so, so sorry.”

“So am I.”

They laid in silence, face streaked with tears until Mikleo was ready to continue. He quietly restarted the memory.

He slithered about his quarters on four legs, cloaking his presence. His family broke into his room; Zaveid, Edna and Muse. Aiden, too weakened by his malevolence, was not present.

Zaveid attacked first. His pendulum wrapped around his scaled arm, tearing a chunk of flesh and scales. He roared, his hellion blood spilling on the floor of the cabin. His mind was soaked, poisoned with malevolence. Despite knowing it wasn’t right to strike back, be followed the orders of the Sorey in his vision.

He slashed his claws across Zaveid’s chest, leaving three jagged tears parallel to his tattoos, claws drenched in poison. He remembered his anger at Edna for undoing his work and healing him. He turned his sights on her.

His gut twisted with the memory. Although it was painful to recall, he pushed onward.

He prepared to attack; despite being cloaked, Edna was able to strike first. She punched with her Giant’s Strength, her fist connecting with his scaled jaw.

 _“You’re hurting my brother.”_ _  
_  
His eyes met with hers, pained, now paralyzed by Edna’s power. Muse chained his legs with void energy, her fist clenched before her.  
  
He roared and thrashed.

 _“Whatever is controlling you, please, Mikleo, do not give in,”_ she pleaded.  
  
He turned his head and snorted angrily.  
_  
_ _“My son. This is not you.”_

Mikleo fought internally, pushing away the Sorey in his vision. Sorey, the real Sorey would never lead him to violence against his family. He gave up resistance to her words, and bowed his head.

 _“Fewisolsu Roku, The Protector,”_ she said firmly. _“My true name and calling. I will protect you. And I will protect this ship, and all passengers aboard.”_

Aiden finally found enough strength to join them. He hobbled into the room, kneeling before Mikleo’s drake form.

 _“Professor... Grand Seraph... Friend. May the Silver Flame cleanse your soul.”_ Aiden’s burning hand rested apprehensively on Mikleo’s neck.  
  
He shuddered at the touch, but did not shy away. The flame enveloped his body, burning the malevolence until nothing was left but his naked form. Zaveid’s winds whipped the blanket off the bed, covering Mikleo. Muse knelt, dismissing her staff and void chains, cradling her son.  
  
_“I’m sorry,”_ he cried. _“I’m sorry.”_

 _“I will always protect you, my son.”_ She held him tightly. He cried mournfully, weak from their encounter in body and mind. She healed his bleeding arm and brought him to the tub of his chambers, where she bathed him from the blood and sweat of their battle. Her delicate fingers wove carefully through his hair, full of love and kindness. She rubbed his arms with soap, running her thumbs in massaging circles down his forearms.

 _“Mom, why... How can you still love me?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“I watched you die once. I was not enough to protect you. I will not lose you again.”_

He exited the tub to dress, frustrated that he could not dry his own hair, too weak to use his powers.

 _“I’ve doomed this ship,”_ he said. _“We should never have come.”_  
  
_“We are here now, and we will survive with each other.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“I should have taken a Squire. We should have stronger domains and fallbacks. And... I just... I rushed everything, because...”_ Mikleo looked down. _“I think I’ve been corrupted for far longer than I realize.”_

 _“What is it that you believe happened, Mikleo?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“I don’t know. It’s as though something has been calling me, controlling me, manipulating my actions. It got in my head, Mom. I don’t know how, but-”_

They were interrupted by a sudden creak as the boat swayed. Mikleo fell to his knees. Muse summoned her staff to maintain her balance. Mikleo concentrated and was able to summon his own for the same purpose.

 _“Stay here,”_ she had said.

He would not. He followed her as closely as he could, stumbling through the narrow companionway up towards the deck. A strong, malevolent domain had overtaken the ship. He felt a prickle at the back of his neck; the knowledge that whatever had come had come for him, to finish the job.

 _“Muse!”_ Zaveid had shouted. _“Get down!”_

The tentacle of a great Sea Monster slammed into her side, flinging her across the ship. She hit the cabin wall, falling to the deck, unconscious.

He remembered seeing Zaveid reach her first, cradling her and finding her unconscious. Mikleo tried his best to move toward her, hobbling toward the center of the deck when something gripped his leg and yanked him upwards. He had been pulled high in the air by one of the Sea Monster’s tentacles. He struggled when the beast released a strong electrical shock, stunning everyone onboard and himself.

Then, the monster lurched forward with a second tentacle, piercing Mikleo’s stomach, stabbing him through and through.

Their armatus flinched violently, their heartbeat wild.

“It’s okay,” echoed Mikleo. “I lived. I’m here now.”

He felt their armatus taking a few deep breaths to calm themselves. They nodded, ready to continue.

Mikleo remembered the feeling of being let go by the tentacle and falling to the deck. He blacked out.

He awoke in Zaveid’s arms, his wounds healed, traces of Edna’s fairy circle blossoming ghostly lotus blossoms across the deck.

 _“I thought I lost you,”_ said Zaveid.  
  
Mikleo coughed, spitting blood. _“There’s no time to be sentimental. You have a hellion to fight.”_

Their Shepherd had armatized with Edna. Curious, he watched them leap into the air, black wings obscuring the sky. He drove into the tentacles with draconic energy, his form very different from the usual armatus. Instead of a long ponytail his hair appeared the same length as always, shaggy, but blonde. His coat was black with silver details decorating the back like a woven spine. His vest, now a pinstriped brown, black pants, thick brown gloves and boots.  
  
_“That’s not the normal armatus...,”_ mumbled Mikleo.

 _“Eizen,”_ called Zaveid.  
  
The man turned gracefully to face Zaveid, leaning back with confidence, his hand resting at his side.  
  
_“The kid’s right. We can be sentimental later.”_

He watched, unable to participate in the battle against the Sea Monster. Muse, now awake, joined Mikleo, sitting and watching as Eizen effortlessly destroyed each tentacle grasping the ship, Zaveid backing him up. She ran her fingers through Mikleo’s bloodied hair.  
  
_“We just went through the trouble of washing you off.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“I can handle it this time, mom.”_ _  
_  
Eizen’s fists glowed with the Silver Flame, the fire travelling down the tentacles of the beast. The beast burned through, leaving no trace. It’s ancient and consumed nature must have left no remaining body or desire to be purified.

Edna unarmatized with him, a heartfelt reunion; her brother was back. Despite his human nature, his memory and personality returned. He asked her to call him Eizen, dismissing the human name that had been used for a short twenty two years of his life.

Eizen aggravatingly took charge, citing Mikleo’s malevolence clouding his ability to lead. Mikleo begrudgingly allowed him to lead their expedition upon the discovery that the unknown malevolent influencer had led them to follow a mis-marked map, passing far too many easier to reach Earthpulse points in favor of a much further one, effectively leading them into the belly of the beast; the Temple of Palamedes, an ancient temple built on a powerful Earthpulse point with a strong bond to Amenoch.

 _“We cut off the head of the beast, and the body will starve,”_ Eizen had said. _“The malevolence will lessen greatly once we clear the temple. It’s the most logical place to start.”_

And so, their plotted course did not change. Mikleo, deeply irritated with Eizen’s sudden control over his expedition, found himself keeping watch from the Crow’s Nest high above the ship. He stood guard, not eating or sleeping, striking down any hellions from a distance, reminiscent of when he once offered the same service for Sorey and Maotelus back in Camlann.

Weeks later they reached the Earthpulse point, and the temple. Despite his resentfulness towards Eizen he was fascinated by his explanations of the temple, sharing details of its construction and architecture. Mikleo proved his usefulness by draining the temple, holding the weight of the ocean to keep his companions safe. The air in the temple was thick with a powerful, malevolent domain. They found hellions, creatures, and more illusions. Clearing the temple they found the source of the domain; an ancient dragon.

The dragon was the illusionist, taking on the form of Eizen.

 _“So that’s what I looked like, eh? Not bad.”_ _  
_  
_“It’s not an Earth elemental at all, he’s water. Pay no mind to the disguise.”_ Zaveid wrinkled his nose, turning to Edna. _“You’re up.”_  
  
Edna nodded, rolling her eyes. _“This sucks.”_

Mikleo strained under the weight of holding the crushing ocean and the strength of malevolence upon them. After a long fight he was the one to deliver the final blow to the dragon, an ice lance to the beast’s heart. It was enough to end the dragon’s life. The malevolent domain in Palamedes Temple dissipated, leaving them free to cleanse the area of malevolence.

The more he travelled with Eizen, the more he found they had in common, including a deep passion for ruins, architecture and ancient discoveries.

The next two months seemed to move quickly, as their boat travelled in a slow zig zag back inland towards New Taliesin. Three major Earthpulse points were their target, hand selected by Eizen. Mikleo was integral to their purification expeditions, either granting Eizen the ability to breathe in water or keeping him dry and safe at the ocean’s floor. Eizen still refused to armatize with anyone but Edna, keeping his ranged attackers behind him. They were a strong team, with the necessary strength to overcome any adversity thrown in their way.  
  
At the end of three months, they found themselves back on land. Faye was the first to greet them, throwing her arms around Mikleo, confused at his change of clothes, and near hysteria when she discovered what had happened to him at sea. She demanded to be there with him on future trips. Mikleo finally conceded.  
  
Eizen spoke with the craftsmen of New Taliesin, revising their plans and customizing future boats. They would need several, if Mikleo’s plans went well.  
  
Mikleo returned to Ladylake full of energy, with his short tale of danger at sea and Aiden’s success as a Shepherd invigorating the class.  
  
And finally, he visited Sorey and Maotelus alongside Edna and Eizen, describing his fierce battles with malevolent sea.  
  
After a few weeks they were back at sea as a team, ready to cleanse another set of Earthpulse points. It became routine, stopping every few months until Eizen’s custom galleon, the Van Eltia II, had been built. The galleon could stay at sea for years, and that’s exactly what they did. Eizen served as a proud Shepherd at sea, Captain of his own ship. Mikleo, Muse, Zaveid and Edna were the only Seraphim companions he allowed as they were truly his most trusted friends and family, although there was the occasional Normin stowaway.  
  
Mikleo celebrated and passed time with the rest aboard the ship, learning the shanties that Eizen and Zaveid drilled into his head, finally learning to accompany them on instruments the crewmen had brought. He took a liking to guitar, and promised himself to play for Sorey one day. The merriment and music annoyed Edna, which brought him great joy.  
  
Eizen finally made a decision and bound himself to Edna, promising that as long as she stayed alive, he would protect her and stay by her side. The oath carried no curse, just a promise of long life as a human and as her vessel. It was the same oath that Sorey had sworn to him, binding their lives together.  
  
Unlike Eizen, Faye and her family grew older, her children serving as crew members and her husband serving as ship craftsman. Her children found love and had families of their own, some of their own children not knowing land until several years old. After several decades Faye finally passed away, leaving a strong legacy of Wrights in her wake.  
  
It took several ships, two hundred and seventy years, countless Shepherds and crews, some of whom were lost to the dangers of sea, to finally cleanse the ocean of malevolence. At each major encounter Mikleo found himself at the center of danger, unwillingly absorbing more and more malevolence into his heart. The hellions, fully aware of his susceptibility targeted him. In daylight he endured excruciating battle, while his evenings were riddled with constant nightmares. Never before had he experienced more physical trauma than during these seafaring expeditions; he was stabbed, cut, bruised and broken over and over, all to protect his family, all in the name of purification. 

Eizen caught Mikleo vomiting off the side of the ship after an intense battle.

 _“It gets easier to hide,”_ he had said.

 _“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”_ Mikleo wiped his mouth with the back of his glove, standing up straight.

 _“Come on, Professor. You can’t hide from your Shepherd. I was there once.”_ Eizen leaned against the railing. _“I had no choice but to let the malevolence turn me into a dragon. I carried enough for it to happen anytime. You’re stronger than I was.”_

_“Meaning if it comes to that, I’ll find another way?”_

_“Possibly. But what I meant was that you’re carrying far more malevolence than I ever did.”_

A secret to everyone else, Mikleo held more than enough malevolence in his heart to manifest into a dragon at any time. He guarded this secret, giving it freely now to Sorey. He was stronger than it was, powerful enough to control it despite it’s whispering desire to control him. He concealed it, hiding away the malevolence and refusing to let it surface, burying it deep within his heart.

Mikleo felt a strange calmness within himself in admittance. He’d give his very life for Sorey, and in a way he had; not in his past, but his future.

And now, he was ready to end it.

Pressing forward with the memory, he returned to his life in Ladylake. Maotelus had returned to sleep, Eizen left with Edna to sail towards the lost continent, and Zaveid and Muse returned to Elysia, leaving him to his life in Ladylake.

Alisha, Rose and Lailah could tell that he had returned from the ocean a different man. They understood how the malevolence affected him, but he would never let them know just how much he carried, how dangerous he truly was. Still, they were kinder, softer to him in understanding. They attempted purification rituals with all four of their elements for several decades before he finally gave up. He would have to face Sorey as he was.

With nothing left to fight, he would stay nearby and wait. He spent the last thirty eight years grounded in Ladylake, teaching in his favorite subject, Seraphic influence on design and style during the Temperance of Avarost. It was an Era that represented humans and Seraphim living together in harmony, the representation of their dream that they had worked so hard to finally achieve. Between classes he spent time in nearby ruins, making time every weekend, sometimes more often to visit the crater and share his hopes, dreams and thoughts.

The memory began to dim, the strength of the vision fading.

A nearby ruin had been discovered after a recent landslide, the Avalon Ruins. Mikleo authorized the funding of an excavation, clearing the way for adventurers such as himself to explore. Hearing that the excavation had been completed, he left his class in Raine’s hands and left to the ruin.

The Avalon Ruins appeared to be a temple of sorts. The stone walls were thick with carvings describing ritual and tradition, worn by the ages. He moved deeper into the ruins, entering a chamber with what appeared to be running lava. At first glance the style reminded him of Igraine. This may have once been a place of spiritual power pertaining to Musiphe, great statues depicting powerful beings.

He heard a noise and turned, seeing nothing. Perhaps it was a stray Normin, wandering the ruin. The ruin was open to all for adventuring, after all.

Moving forward, he reached a chamber that was more to his affinity. Cool water impossibly flowed around stone platforms in an enchanted moat that had stayed full for what must have been centuries. He stepped up a small platform containing a stone structure. Looking closer, a blue jewel was embedded on a worn stone pedestal. It was curiously familiar, almost identical to the architecture of Palamedes Temple.

He reached out his hand and placed a gloved finger on the jewel, regretting the action it immediately as the stone floor gave way below him.

Yet his fall was halted.  
  


 

* * *

 

  


“That’s when I caught you,” said Sorey.

The vision faded to black, eyes still tightly shut.

“What an incredible journey you’ve gone through,” Sorey’s solitary voice shook.

No response.

“Mikleo?”

A sudden ringing in his ears confused him. The ringing rapidly increased to a shrill scream. Before he could react, searing pain shot through his body, pinpricks of flames pushed through every pore with a burning intensity far more painful than anything he or Mikleo had ever felt.

He passed out.

  
  
  
  


* * *

 

  


Sorey blinked his eyes open. His head throbbed. It felt like it must have been hours later, there was no way to tell.

“Mikleo,” said Sorey, his throat dry.

No answer.

He tried to sit up, and found he couldn’t. His body was paralyzed.

“Mikleo, are you there?”

Sorey strained to move his eyes down his body, noticing the armatus was gone. He was still on the bed wearing what he had laid down in- his black undershirt, pants and socks. He wondered how long it had been.

“Mikleo, where are you? Are you okay? What happened?”

Sorey shut his eyes. He recognized this feeling, his mana had been fully consumed. He would need to regain mana before he could move again. He would need help. He concentrated, seeking the sound of Mikleo’s heartbeat, panicking when it couldn’t be found.

“Where are you? Mikleo, I can’t... Are you mad at me?” pleaded Sorey. “Mikleo, please, I need your help.”

No response.

“Help,” he repeated hoarsely. “Help.”

He began to panic.

“Help,” he repeated, louder. “Help. Help me.”

He shook in fear. In a blur of tears and commotion, Alisha and Rose were soon upon him. They must have heard his pleas from the floor below.

“What happened?” asked Rose, shaking him.

“I need an orange gel,” he managed to get out.

“In his bag, quickly,” she instructed Alisha. “Where’s Mikleo?”

“What happened to the seal on the door?” asked Alisha, bringing him an unwrapped gel.

The gel was placed in his mouth. He swallowed it whole, his body released from paralysis. He sat up, noticing Mikleo’s cloak still hung on the hook by the door, his boots where he had left them. Sorey clutched his chest, shivering uncontrollably.

“Mikleo,” he said.

“Sorey, what happened?”

“I...-” He doubled over, his hand firmly over his heart. “I think I killed him.”  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	12. Alone

“Sorey? Sorey? Answer me!”

His mind was clouded by a curtain of static. He felt Rose grip his shoulders, shaking him to awareness.

“He’s gone,” he said absently.

“What do you mean he’s gone? Where did he go?”

He pushed his hands onto his face, covering his eyes. “I don’t know. He’s gone. He’s gone and I killed him.”

“Sorey,” asked Alisha’s kind voice shook from beside him. “Can you tell us what happened?”

“I... He was doing an arte. And we were armatized.”

“And then?”

His breathing and heart rate quickened. His heartbeat, solitary, alone. The only time he couldn’t hear Mikleo’s heartbeat was when he was inside his vesselspace. And when he was there, he was a vibrant, powerful energy, potent, yet willingly restrained and controlled. His presence would have been obvious. But he was nowhere to be found.

He pushed his fingers over his brow, covering his eyes again.

“And it, I pushed him too hard. I pushed him, and now he’s gone.”

Silence.

“Is it possible he left?” asked Alisha.

He shook his head. “The oath,” he said. “I can’t-” He stopped. Their lives were bound together, after all. He continued, voice shaking. “Will I die too?”

Rose stood, heading to the balcony. She raised her hands palm up, a gesture that she was reading the winds.

“We’re going to find him,” announced Rose.

“He’s not out there.”

“He could have broken your pact and left, right?” She raised her chin to the open balcony doors and closed her eyes. “I’m going to look.”

“He’s not out there,” Sorey repeated. “He’s gone.”

Alisha pulled one of Sorey’s hands from his face. She held it tightly between the fingertips of both her hands. He turned to look at her. She was searching his face with her eyes.

“He’s gone,” he repeated quietly. He glanced again at Mikleo’s boots and coat, hung neatly by the door.

“Sorey,” she said.

He felt his body nodding, his ragged breathing. He felt weak, dizzy. He closed his eyes and leaned forwards.

“Sorey,” she repeated. A bright yellow light shone as she pushed a healing spell through him. It was a kind gesture, a warmth that would keep his body from feeling ill. He wondered how long he had to live, his lip quivering. At least he would pass away surrounded by friends, kind enough to do what they could to make him comfortable.

“Rose,” said Alisha. “Come here and heal him.”

“I’m busy,” said Rose. “This takes concentra-”

“ _Rose_ ,” said Alisha, more sternly. “Come heal him and feel this.”

“Feel what?” said Sorey.

She gripped his arm tightly. Rose sat beside him to hold his other arm, under Alisha’s instruction she pushed another healing spell into him. This time her green light shone, the circular spell glowing from beneath them.

Rose looked at Sorey, then Alisha, then back to Sorey.

“What?” asked Sorey. “What’s happening?”

“It’s Mikleo,” said Alisha, leaning forward and smiling.

“He’s here,” said Rose.

Sorey shook his arms free and put his hand over his heart.

“Mikleo,” he said quietly.

“He’s not dead,” said Alisha, her soft voice shaking.

“He’s not okay,” said Sorey. “I can’t feel him at all.” He sobbed loudly. “I hurt him.”

“Sorey,” said Alisha softly, placing a hand on his back in comfort. “Can you tell us what happened?”

He clutched the fabric over his heart. He took several deep breaths before beginning.

“He was showing me his memories. We were armatized, and- He was showing me the important things. I think we were... together for a few days.”

“The winds told me when you arrived. That was four days ago,” said Rose.

He nodded. “And then after he was done I felt-” He held a hand to his forehead. “I felt an awful pain, everywhere. It knocked me out. And when I woke up, he was... gone.”

Rose furrowed her brow. “Alisha, do you know of any arte like this?”

“To share memories? Not anything other than the Earthen Historia.” She shook her head. “And we’ve only known that Great Lords are capable of such a thing.”

“Even so, that’s an object, not an armatized arte,” said Rose.

“He did it once centuries ago, but only briefly,” said Sorey. “He said then he had been working on this arte for a long time.” He twisted his fingers in the soft, black fabric over his heart. “If I knew, Mikleo, I’d never have said okay.”

“Would anyone at the Academy know more about this arte?” asked Rose.

Alisha thought for a moment. “Most of the Professors are relatively young, and would have never seen an Earthen Historia.”

“But Lailah has,” said Rose.

“She’s the most experienced Seraph I know,” Alisha agreed. “Perhaps Mikleo shared something with her, if we’re lucky.”

Rose stood and smacked her hands against her thighs. “So we’ll go see Lailah. Maybe she can help us figure out what happened.”

“Yes. Agreed.” Alisha stood and offered a hand to Sorey.

“I’m gonna fix this, Mikleo,” he said, before attempting to stand. The women helped him upright, wobbling on his own two feet. He shivered, head to toe.

“Are you cold?” asked Alisha.

Sorey shook his head no.

“Here,” said Rose, tossing him a cloak from the front closet. The dark brown cloak was hooded, perfect for obscuring his identity. He winced, realizing that if he were to be recognized, he may be asked where his companion was. He slipped it on slowly, one arm at a time.

“I’m gonna fix this,” said Sorey, to himself.

The women shared a look with each other before guiding him out the apartment door. Alisha turned and summoned a boulder to block entrance.

“There’s no seal on the door,” she said. “We’ll put a proper lock on it when you come back.”

“He’ll put it back when he snaps out of this.” Sorey nodded.

“Okay,” said Alisha quietly.

They headed downstairs together.

  
  
  
  


* * *

 

  
  


Kneeling in front of the dais, he couldn’t help but remember the first time he entered the sanctuary. Seeking to keep Alisha from danger, he and Mikleo had come to the Ladylake sanctuary where he first made his pact with Lailah, the Lady of the Lake. Between the malevolence from non-believers and the corruption within the Ladylake government, hellions had spawned everywhere. It was a disaster that Lailah had helped to right, perhaps she could work her magic again.

“Sorey,” Lailah gently said.

He looked up to see her standing before him. She hadn’t changed in centuries, from her long pale rose tipped hair to her intricate red and white dress. Her vibrant green eyes kindly met his own.

“Lailah,” he said softly.

“I need you to understand that this isn’t your fault,” she said, offering a hand and helping him stand. “You know Mikleo.” She smiled kindly.

Sorey shook his head no. “I did this to him.”

“Sorey, please do not blame yourself. Self doubt and insecurity, these are tools that will let malevolence into your heart. You must keep your vessel safe, now more than ever.”

“Mikleo,” he said softly. He looked down and found his fingers once again pushing into the fabric over his heart. He looked back up at Lailah, with tears in his eyes. “How do I fix this?”

Lailah pursed her lips and looked away. “Sorey, you must prepare yourself. It’s... possible that it can’t be done.”

“And what? He’ll just be... stuck inside of me?”

“He is too weak to form his own body,” she said softly.

“Is he conscious? Can he hear me?”

“Most likely not,” she said quietly.

He put his hand over his mouth for a moment before turning away again.

“If we understand better what happened, can we undo it?” asked Alisha.

“I’m not sure. I’ve never seen anything like this before.” She clasped her hands together. “Let’s go see Maotelus. I’m sure he can tell us if this has to do with Historia.”

  
  
  
  


* * *

 

  
  


He gazed out the window of the bumpy carriage. The three women chatted with each other quietly. He shared a bench seat with Lailah, across from Alisha and Rose who had been holding each other’s hands tightly for hours.

He used to hold Mikleo’s hand, sometimes.

Why did he push him so far?

He bit his lip and leaned back to hold in the tears.

  
  
  
  


* * *

 

  
  


Morgrim stretched her plump feline body, raising a hind leg to deepen the stretch.

“He’s been asleep for a few days, as he does,” she said. “There are few things the boy loves more than naps.”

“I’ll try not to bother him for long,” said Sorey.

Morgrim strolled away, out the door of the Shrinechurch. Rose pointed her thumb in Morgrim’s direction, making a confused face. Alisha covered her mouth and giggled quietly.

He used to have inside jokes with Mikleo, too.

Pursing his lips, he moved further in the Shrinechurch, into the large chamber that held the great white dragon. The dragon rested his massive chin on his front two paws, eyes tiredly blinking open. He raised his head at Sorey’s approach.

“Thousands of points of light. The silver flame, burning hotter and hotter in pain until... silence. Was this a dream, little one?”

“It’s Mikleo,” said Sorey.

“I see,” said the white dragon, his strange child-like voice ringing in the halls of the Shrinechurch.

“Can he be saved?”

“From what I have seen, you have already saved him. It’s his body that’s too weak now.”

Sorey’s hands drew to fists. “What do I do, Maotelus?”

Maotelus huffed a breath of air.

“Sorey, you must understand. This was his choice.”

Sorey shook his head no. “He’d never want to be trapped like this. It’s because I pushed him too far.”

The dragon leaned his head back slightly. “Thoughts like this will do no good. As his vessel, you must keep him safe.”

“Until he wakes up?”

The dragon hummed dismissively. “You should head to Elysia.”

“Will that help him wake up faster? What will I find there?”

“Family.”

Sorey pursed his lips.

Maotelus continued. “You should be with your families. They’ll give you comfort, and keep you safe.”

“But-”

“You should continue your Seraphic Arte training with Muse.”

He felt his blood run cold. He would have to face Muse, and tell her what happened.

“The mana flowing within you may help him to regenerate,” continued Maotelus. “It would do well to strengthen it.”

He nodded, determined, swallowing his fear. “If it’ll help him, I’ll do it.” He turned behind him to see Rose, Alisha and Lailah in waiting.

“Looks like we’re headed to Elysia.”

  
  
  
  


* * *

 

  
  


He sat on the low bed in his room. It had been a long day, the sun finally retreating beyond the Elysia mountainside. He hadn’t been in his own house since they’d left Elysia, together. Had they returned after stopping by Ladylake as they had planned, would they have retreated to their separate homes? Since moving in with Mikleo, no matter what transpired during their travels they always found themselves ending up in the same bed. He’d become accustomed to sleeping with his best friend beside him. And now, tonight he would have to sleep alone.

He buried his head in his hands.

“I’ll stay with you until they return,” said Alisha quietly, sitting beside him on the bed. He heard the door close as everyone else left.

The silence hung for a time, before Sorey broke it.

“The last time I was here, I woke up with him sitting beside me,” he began. “I had made my oath and passed out in his house. He must have carried me back to my own bed. He took good care of me.” He smiled. “He even made me drago stew.”

“Mikleo is a good man,” she said.

He nodded slowly.

“Do you... you don’t remember the first time you came here, do you?”

Alisha shook her head. “I don’t remember my past life at all.”

He huffed a small laugh. “I had found you in the ruins and brought you back to Elysia. You didn’t tell me who you were. Man, Gramps was so mad at me. So was Mikleo, for that matter.”

“I appreciate you taking that risk.”

“You were the first human I ever met. I had to do something, you were lost and alone and could have been hurt. You told me about the malevolence in the world below. I had never been anywhere but here. It was because of you that-” He choked. “I- we were inspired to leave Elysia for the first time. Alisha, you told me what was going on in the world and I couldn’t sit still. I had to do something.” He paused. “Just like I can’t let Mikleo down. I’m going to train hard and do everything to bring him back.”

“I know you will, Sorey. We can count on you.”

There was a soft knock at the door.

“Come in,” called Alisha.

Sorey looked up to see Muse, standing in the doorway, with Zaveid close behind her. His heartbeat quickened in panic. They made eye contact briefly before the pain prevalent in her eyes forced him to look away.

“I’m sorry,” said Sorey. “I never meant to hurt him.”

“Sorey,” she said, taking a step forward.

“I made a promise to you,” he said. “I promised to keep him safe. And now-”

“He is safe,” she said. “He is safe here. With you.”

“Miss Muse, I-”

He looked down, tears falling freely. Big wet spots dropped onto his shirt. She came forward and sat beside him, her white tipped blonde plait falling over one shoulder. Her hand moved over his own, gripping him gently.

“We’ll begin training tomorrow,” she said softly.

“Right,” he said, nodding. He wiped his eyes and looked up at her. Her violet, sad eyes were familiar, the same brilliance and depth in color and emotion as his.

“For now, get some rest.” She stood. “You know where we are, if you need us for anything at all.”

“Thank you for understanding. I’m- I’m going to make this right. I’m going to bring him back,” he said, voice cracking.

“We believe in you,” said Alisha.

 

 

That night, he slept alone.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for being patient with me. This chapter, although short was really hard to write. I don't think I did the characters justice but the story goes on. More to come!


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